#and i have to steady myself because i fucking remember what i was like

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

Oh man I think I finally just understood something fundamental about myself? So. When I was a kid/teenager I was kinda super depressed all the time, but there were intervals where I was suddenly fine. And I just realized, it follows the pattern of my hyperfixations. When I was super into something I was super depressed. And I think it's because the thing I was into gave me so much dopamine that everything other than the thing felt unbelievably hollow in comparison. But when I was less into stuff I was out and about and doing so much better. Bitch I had addiction problems with cartoons and viddy games lmfao holy shit?

#im still prone to it! i got my shit together with it don't get me wrong #but sometimes. when im really into a show or something. i get a lil antsy when im not engaging with it in some way #and i have to steady myself because i fucking remember what i was like #im not being hyperbolic i mean i was *seriously* doing bad #''yeah i dont think i have an addictive personality i mean ive never had issues with alcohol or food or drugs or-'' bitch #you had to get 'clean' from Cartoon Show #bitch you stayed up all night watching Zombie show. watch yourself bitch.

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Old Money, Bratty Honey

pairing: bodyguard!Wonwoo x heiress!reader x bodyguard!Vernon

genre: smut - minors dni.

warnings: car sex (a limo specifically), public sex (the windows are tinted but still), mean dom!wonwoo, switch!vernon, brat!reader, sir kink, edging, hair pulling, blowjobs, facefucking, degradation, masturbation, voyeurism, cum swallowing, reader is rich and spoiled (yk how the rest goes)

requested by @onlymingyus

word count: 1.7k

summary: being born in money gives you the chance to try pretty much everything in the world - that includes fucking your two hot bodyguards in your dad's limousine.

Author's note: hello <3 this fic was requested by beloved mars - the unesco forum pics did a LOT of damage

tagging: @gyuwoncheol @wonwussy bcs they asked to suffer so here we are

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

“Do you remember your speech?”

“Tch, of course I do.” You roll your eyes. “I wrote it myself, remember?”

“I know you did. Just wanted to check whether your brain cells are still active.” Wonwoo smirks.

“Unlucky for you, they are very much intact and in better shape than yours.” You bite back.

“Is there any time of any day where the two of you don’t argue?” Vernon groans from behind you. “Can we just…enjoy the little time we have left until we arrive at the venue?”

“Mmm, of course we can, Nonie.” You turn your attention to your other bodyguard. “He’s never fun, either way. But you are way more fun, right?” You make yourself comfortable in his lap, your manicured hands smoothing over his chest.

“Anything for you, honey. You know me.” Vernon smirks and leans in the crevice of your neck, lips and tongue gliding over your skin.

Wonwoo sighs in defeat and averts his eyes from the unfolding scene, trying to ignore it. 

If it wasn’t for the hefty salary that gets deposited every month in his bank account, he wouldn’t even be here. He would rather be walking at a dingy bar, rather than have to babysit a rich brat like you. 

And the worst thing of all? You’re smart and hot as fuck - to the point where he wants to stuff your mouth full of his dick and make you cry.

You’re aware of how uptight and cold Wonwoo is towards you and you can’t really blame him for his attitude - being head of security under your dad basically requires that attitude. Which makes messing around with him even more fun for you.

Vernon, on the other hand, is your assigned personal bodyguard and would fold in half for you, if you asked him to. One bat of your eyelashes is enough to make him cave to any request of yours, thus giving you the perfect cover for your night escapades.

But of course, he always gets rewarded for his secrecy and faith to you - in the form of letting him fuck you dumb more than often.

This is one of the occasions where you want to mess around with both of them at the same time.

You throw the fabric of your gown backwards to uncover your legs and give yourself enough space to grind your clothed pussy over Vernon’s slacks. 

“Careful with your gown, honey.” He reminds you.

“It’s just fabric, I could have tens of that.” You grin towards him.

“How rich and bratty, coming from you.” Wonwoo comments with a venomous tone.

“Yeah, that’s because I am rich, bratty, pretty and smart and you want to fuck me so bad.” You reply boldly.

He slides next to Vernon and grips your jaw with his right hand, keeping it steady directly in front of his face.

“You’re right, little bitch. I want to fuck the brat out of you, to the point you’re crying and begging me to stop.” His voice feels deeper and colder than the ocean, his eyes burning holes in your skull through his horn-rimmed glasses.

You almost hate how hot and fuckable Wonwoo looks today - but you’ve always wanted to know what’s hidden under his professional attire.

“I would like to see you try, you fucking nerd. I bet you’re still a virgin-”

He cuts you off by dragging you off Vernon’s lap and pushes you down on your knees, between his thighs.

“Dude, what the hell!” Vernon glares at the older man.

“Shut the fuck up, Vernon. You have gotten plenty of time with her since you got your job. Now sit back and watch.” Wonwoo orders him as he unbuttons his pants and lets his cock spring free.

Your eyes widen at the size and it makes your mouth fill with saliva and your pussy dampens your Victoria’s Secret panties.

“Tell me, Vernon - Does the pretty brat over here like to suck dick?” Wonwoo asks with a dangerous glint in his eyes as he runs his fist over his shaft.

“Y-Yeah, she does.” The younger man stutters.

“Does she swallow?”

“Yes, she does.”

“Yes what, Vernon?”

“Yes s-sir.”

“Hm, at least one of you can behave.” Wonwoo turns his attention to you again.

“Enjoying the power trip, Wonwoo?” You place your hands over his thighs, rubbing them up and down.

“It’s Sir for you, little brat.” He puts his hand behind your neck and brings your face close enough to let his cock slap against your cheek. “Now put your smartass mouth to good use, will you?”

“And what if I don’t want to?” You rile him up even more.

Wonwoo threads his hands in the back of your hair and forcefully slides his cock in your mouth. You gag when the tip hits your throat, but you manage to suppress your reflex with ease.

“Fuck, honey…” Vernon curses under his breath and starts palming himself over his pants.

“No need to be jealous, Vernon - I’m sure you have experienced this already, right?” Wonwoo chuckles as he uses your hair as leverage to fuck your face.

“I could get used to this, Y/N - this cock-stuffed version of yours is quite likable.”

You grunt in response and purposefully drag your teeth over his cock, eliciting a hiss from him. He drags you off his cock and pulls you upwards, forcing your back to arch.

“Do that one more time and your daddy will find out his precious daughter is a fucking slut.” He threatens you.

“You don’t want to do this, Sir.” You slur the title on purpose. “You’ll be at loss in the end, especially after fucking me like you wanted to,” you grip his wrist, “So, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and I’ll let you fuck me stupid. How does that sound?” You grin.

“Little bitch.” Wonwoo scoffs and puts your mouth back on his cock.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look so damn pretty.” Vernon moans on the side, his own pants long unbuttoned, hand stroking his pre-cum coated dick. 

Your eyes flit to the younger man and you send him a wink, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo.

“Eyes on me, brat. And you,” he snaps his head towards Vernon, “You better not fucking cum until I say so.”

“S-Sir, I won’t-”

“Don’t. Fucking. Cum.” He repeats with something akin to a growl.

“Fuck, I won’t!” Vernon whines in defeat, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck, his hand slowing down to keep himself on edge.

You moan around Wonwoo’s cock, nails digging in the fabric of his pants as you hollow your cheeks and do your best to bring him closer to his orgasm.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum- You better swallow every last drop like you do with him, princess.” 

You bat your eyelashes to let him know you’re ready and he presses your head until you’ve taken him till the base. You can feel the saltiness of his cum coursing down your throat. You pin your eyes on Wonwoo and stare at him until you’ve sucked his cock clean, swallowing till the last drop.

He retracts his hand and lets you get off his lap, whispering a few words in your ear, low enough to not be heard by anyone else.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but I really need to fucking cum and I don’t want to bust my nut all over the suit.” Vernon half moans, hand gripping his cock tight.

You move between his legs with a sultry smile and engulf his cock with your mouth. It only takes him a few harsh sucking motions of your lips to make him cum, a string of heavy breaths and moans coming out of his mouth.

You release his shaft with an obscene popping sound, opening your mouth to show him the amount of cum in it. You swallow it in one gulp, licking your lips clean.

“Filthy little slut.” Wonwoo clicks his tongue as he tucks himself back in.

“Couldn’t agree more.” Vernon clears his throat and tidies himself as well.

“That was definitely fun,” you sit back on the leather seats and open your purse to take out a pack of wet wipes and clean your hands. A small hair brush follows right after and you fix your hair, as if they were never touched in the first place.

“How is your makeup still intact?” Vernon asks you with narrowed eyes.

“Ever heard of waterproof makeup?” You side eye him.

“As long as Daddy is paying, everything must be on point for his pretty little heiress.” Wonwoo comments. “We’re here, be ready.”

“No need to remind me of my job, Wonwoo.”

As soon as he opens the door of the limousine to help you out, you’re welcomed with countless flashing cameras and microphones shoved in your way, but Vernon rushes next to your side to keep them at a safe distance. 

You put on your finest smile for the cameras, knowing which way to turn your head so the gossip magazines will have only your best shots. 

The noises of the crowd are drowned out once the three of you enter the venue of the gala and your bodyguards double check that everything is okay and you can proceed.

“How ironic to see the two of you being so professional while you were cumming like highschool boys just a few minutes ago.” You giggle.

“How ironic to see you acting like a proper lady after sucking off your security entourage in your daddy’s limousine like a cheap whore.” Wonwoo smirks and you fight back the urge to hit his head with your purse, as you walk over to the table with your assigned seat.

“You didn’t have to be so sassy about it.” Vernon covers his mouth to hide his grin.

“And you should have been more discreet with your visits in her room.” Wonwoo almost snaps at him with a stern look on his face.

“You’re not actually gonna snitch, are you?” The younger man looks at him partially horrified.

Wonwoo’s lips curl in a dirty smirk and he leans into Vernon’s ear.

“As long as you’re willing to stand guard in front of her door all night long while I’m teaching the little brat some manners, then your dirty secret is safe with me.”

Vernon pokes his cheek with his tongue, wishing he was able to shove his fist in Wonwoo’s face.

“So? Are you willing to do that, Chwe?”

“.....Yes sir.”

“That’s what I thought.”

#svthub #wonwoo smut #vernon smut #hansol smut #svt wonwoo #svt vernon #jeon wonwoo #hansol vernon chwe #svt smut #seventeen smut #seventeen

[ramp-it-up]

That Face

Summary: You get drunk and tell Bucky exactly what you want to do to that face.

Pairing: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 1.9 K

A/N: You can read this as a companion piece to Red Wings.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. More angst on the part of the reader. Sweet Bucky fluff. Jealousy, excessive drinking, intoxication, drunken confessions, face riding, fingering, extreme oral sex (f receiving) anal play, praise kink, allusion to anal sex. Not Beta’d. All errors my own. 

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post!

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Bucky was holding you close to him, and it should have been romantic, but it wasn’t.

You were shit faced, and practically falling down with every step.

“Careful Doll, I’m gonna have to carry you home.”

After just six months of dating, you’d moved in with him, your relationship barreling along with breakneck speed, but who wouldn’t fall in love with Bucky?

Who wasn’t still in love with Bucky?

You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, half a block from your brownstone.

“That sounds hot, Bucky, but I’m pissed…”

“Yeah, I know…”

“No, I’m mad.”

You stomped your foot and wobbled, until Bucky’s hands steadied you again. Bucky bent down and looked you in the eyes.

“You good, Doll?”

His sky blue eyes looked sincere, but jealousy and alcohol wouldn’t let you accept that.

“No! This was supposed to be our night to fuck and have a romantic dinner. You’ve been gone for three weeks. Three weeks, James!”

Bucky looked contrite, but then again there were four of him weaving in front of you right now, so you couldn’t be sure.

“Sorry, Baby. Didn’t know the guys would be in town. It’s my crew.”

“I can take your army buddies, but her. She’s a bitch!”

“Wow. Whoa whoa whoa. You know I don’t like anyone calling women bitches. Even you.”

Bucky straightened up and the stern look he gave you sent a thrill through you, but you weren’t done.

“She still wants you, Bucky. Sharon is a slut. And you always say you love when I’m a slut for your cock.”

Bucky looked around as you started crying and people walking by avoided the scene.

“I don’t want Sharon, Doll. I want you.”

Bucky looked down at you, eyes sparkling with amusement at your jealousy. Even his voice was smiling. It made you madder and you stumbled as you advanced on him, bucking up to the man who was a foot taller than you.

“Look at that fucking face.”

You reached up and took his chin between your fingers.

“No one gets to ride this dimple but me!”

This time Bucky didn’t care about who heard, you’d peaked his interest. His eyebrow shot up.

Even though drunk, you read his expression.

“Yep!”

You nodded and it threw you off balance, but luckily Bucky was there.

“Betcha didn’t know that I touch myself to the memories of the feeling of that chin between my legs. Did it the entire time you were gone. That cock is something else Bucky, but that face. I just want to ride it into the sunset….”

This was new information to Bucky. You seemed to love when he ate you out, but you were always hesitant to ride his face. He licked his lips as he thought of you pleasuring yourself to the thought of his face.

Then he grinned.

You read him again.

“Oh no! No no no. You think you got me. But you said you were mine…”

Bucky leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“I am yours, Doll.”

“So she can’t ride your face?”

Bucky slowly shook his head.

“No, only you.”

You sighed and sagged into his arm.

“Good, because I-“

And that was the last thing you remembered from that night.

You woke up the next morning, head pounding. You looked around, grateful to be in your bed. And grateful for your boyfriend, who’d left a bottle of water and some aspirin on the bedside table.

You could hear Bucky puttering around in the kitchen but you weren’t quite ready to eat.

You eagerly took the pills and drank the bottle down. Then, you turned on the shower as you brushed your teeth.

You reflected on the gathering at The Howling Commando, the neighborhood bar so familiar to you as you met Bucky’s friends. Which included Sharon Carter.

Bucky’s ex.

“Bucky’s just being nice, y’know?”

Steve tried to reassure you as she and Bucky caught up in the corner. You nodded back at Steve, but when Bucky smiled at Sharon was when you ordered your first shot of Jameson’s.

You showered as you tried to remember the rest of the night. But all you could remember was Bucky’s sweet face. You wrapped up in a towel and sat on the bed as you thought of how sweet Bucky was. He was so cute. That face.

That face.

“Shit!”

Your head fell into your hands as you remembered what happened the night before.

“What’s wrong, Doll?”

You looked up and your heart dropped.

Bucky was clad in only sleep pants and you could tell that there was nothing underneath.

You licked your lips, not bothering to hide your stare. Bucky came and sat down on the bed.

“See something you like, Doll?”

“Morning.”

“G’morning Sunshine..”

Bucky leaned down and kissed you on the cheek, chaste, despite the look in his eye. Your eyes fell to his lips. And lower.

Bucky licked his lips and rubbed his chin.

“You didn’t answer my question, Doll.”

Bucky’s mouth was an inch from yours. He reached for your towel and hooked his finger at the makeshift knot, causing his fingernail to brush your nipple.

“Don’t tease me Bucky…”

“I should say the same to you, Doll. You told me all the things you wanted to do to my face and then passed out.”

“James! I was drunk!”

“They say we are the most honest when we’re drunk.”

Bucky kissed you and then looked into your eyes.

“D’you believe that I don’t care about Sharon?”

You liked into his true blue eyes and you knew he wasn’t lying.

“I believe you. I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you too, Doll.”

You reached up and caressed his lips and chin.

“Gotta admit. This face is pretty irresistible.”

Bucky grinned and you leaned in for a kiss and climbed on his lap, grinding as he took your towel off.

“Been so long, Bucky.”

Bucky’s hands caressed you as he leaned back and let you have your way.

You made your way down his body, reacquainting yourself with his form with your lips, tongue, and fingers. He lifted his hips as you pulled down his pajama pants, lightly scratching his thighs on the way down.

“God I missed you so much, Doll. Spent all last night just waiting until we could get home. Wanted to lose myself in you.”

You had Bucky in your hand, sitting on his legs as you stroked his half-hard cock to full life.

“M’sorry Babe. How can I make it up to you?”

You looked up at him, ready to suck his soul out.

“Come up here and ride this irresistible face.”

You gasped as Bucky pulled you up his body until you were kneeling over him.

“There she is.”

Bucky’s fingers helped to separate your lips as he breathed hot breath into your cunt.

“So fucking wet for me.”

And then he went to work on licking into your tangy goodness.

“So good. Such a good girl for me. Such a good pussy.”

Bucky sat you down and suckled your clit, pulling on it like it was gum, stretching it and your soul out for the world (inside your bedroom) to see. He was kneading your breasts and pulling your nipples, serving to make you wetter and him messier.

But it was only just beginning as you started gyrating on his chin.

Bucky smacked your ass and pushed you over on your hands and knees again.

“That’s a girl. Bounce on my tongue.”

You did as you were told, feeling Bucky’s chin in your vagina each time you bounced on his tongue.

“Smear that shit all over my fuckin face Doll. You know you want to.”

Bucky took your ass in his hands and then started moving you back and forth on his face. You were overwhelmed with numerous sensations as his lips, tongue and chin, covered with short facial hair, destroyed your soul.

“Now sit up and fuck this face, Doll. Please. ”

You peered down at his bright blue eyes as his fingertips grazed your stomach. You obeyed him as you pulled his hair and took your throne, his thick, wide tongue spearing into you as you fucked his face.

His chin was now grazing your puckered hole, and you moaned as the scruffy dimpled part of him made you tremble.

“J-James…”

Bucky spread your cheeks and moved his tongue so that it could invade your inmost parts. He licked you from ass to clit and your legs started trembling.

You leaned back over and bounced in his tongue again, holding your breasts with one hand as you braced against the wall with the other.

Bucky’s hand snaked around to flick your clit as you gasped and fully sat on his face as his tongue speared into you, twisting and curling, not as all consuming as his cock, but reaching that special spot inside you nonetheless.

You gasped and sat back, hand on his sternum as you rolled your hips into his face.

“Oh. Ohhhh, oh Jamesssss.”

You whimpered, and your crying-like noises as you moved told him how it felt.

“So… fuck it feels so good…

You were grabbing his hair as he craned his neck upward to look at you.

Bucky growled into your cunt then lifted you upright again, his thumb slipping into your ass. This caused a gush of your fluids into his mouth and he started moaning.

“Mmmmmm. Mmhmmmm!”

“Oahhhh oh ahhh.”

Bucky was still breaching your ass as his tongue sped up impossibly and his lips suckled your clit intermittently.

“More… please!”

You were seeing stars as you reached back and pushed Bucky’s thumb in to the hilt.

Bucky moaned as you started bouncing again. His hand was fucking your ass as you rode his face.

“Please please please…”

“Hmmph… yesssss.”

Bucky spoke into your cunt as you started to reach your crescendo. He could taste your orgasm coming before it happened. Everything sped up.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!”

“Ummmmmm!”

Bucky was in heaven as you continued to gush into his mouth.

You came with a scream as Bucky lapped you all up.

“Unnnnh!”

Bucky pulsed precum on his stomach as you came on his face.

“Unh ahhhh.

“So pretty, Doll. Stay right here.”

Bucky kissed your lips as you quivered in front of him.

“Want this ass. Gonna give it to me?”

“Bucky…”

“She’s ready for me now.”

Bucky’s finger found that hole again.

“Gonna make you feel real good.”

You whimpered as Bucky spit on his fingers and manipulated two of them inside you.

He gave your clit a peck with his lips and you jumped.

“Nice and loose for me.”

You looked down on him adoringly and carded your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp. He moaned.

“Please Doll. But only if you want that too. I need you. You’re my best girl. My good girl.”

You looked back, his cock jumping on his abs, sticky with his pre cum. You shuddered at his praise and at the thought of him inside that hole. But as Bucky probed and kissed you further, you knew you wanted it.

You didn’t need to look back down to know that Bucky was buried in your cunt again, bringing you to another peak. Instead, your head lolled back on your shoulders as you rode Bucky’s mouth again.

“Anything! Anything you want, Bucky…I want it too! Ah…”

You just couldn’t resist that face.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #sharon carter #steve rogers #Bucky Barnes au

[oreosmama]

Voicemails After the Breakup (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: I pity the fools who ignore this a/n bc WARNING, these are hcs without those stupid bullet points bc I have suddenly emotionally decided that they fucking suck. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy the light angst, for all those survivors who are still vibing in this fandom. Enjoy!

Word count: 1968

Tooru Oikawa:

“I’m totally and completely over you.”

That’s how the message starts. 

Part of you wonders if you missed something, or accidentally skipped ahead. It’s so immediate, like Oikawa could barely wait for the beep before tearing into you. Like he needed to spit poison the second he had the chance. 

And it’s one of those biting remarks that he wants to let fester—for a while, evidently; he doesn’t say anything else for another five minutes. 

All that follows is a loud thud, like he’s thrown the phone away from him. And then footsteps, like he’s pacing, pacing, pacing back and forth, trying to think of more scathing words by burning holes into his carpet. 

You hit a point where you think you should delete the message, maybe try and not care about whatever else he may or may not say after waiting for so long. You nibble on your nails and tug at the snarls in your hair. You pick four pieces of lint off your sweatshirt and seventeen more off the blanket draped over your lap, and you know how many there are because you line them up and count them afterwards as you wait, anxious, listening to your ex-boyfriend’s panting. 

But a small rustle stirs at that five-minute mark, right against your ear. And a sniffle. 

“Fine.” Oikawa’s voice cracks. “You win.” 

You suck in a breath. 

“What do you wanna hear? That I miss you?” He sniffles again, then scoffs bitterly. “That I miss you so fucking much I can’t sleep at night? That my bed is so fucking cold now I can’t even stomach sleeping in it? That every girl I see I automatically compare to you because I have to—I just fucking have to, all because she’s not you. And it makes me sick.”

His chuckle is sour and crackles harshly into your eardrum. “Am I stroking your ego enough, sweetheart? Because you win. You fucking win.

“I want you back.” 

He sighs, and it sounds like he’s rubbing his forehead. 

“I need you back.” 

More beats pass in the silence. More sniffles, too, but stretched out, like he’s trying to steady his breathing. 

You don’t think it’s helping him any. As you wipe the cuffs of your sweatshirt underneath your eyes, his voice returns, thoroughly raw and wounded. It squeaks out of him, barely above a whisper. His voice is so loud and tender, like he’s cradling the phone against his cheek. 

Your hand against his warm cheek, curled over that pink skin, fingertips inches away from brushing through those soft strands, wiping tears. That’s what you wish it was. 

“I didn’t know…” 

A shaky breath. You hold yours in return. 

“I didn’t know anything could hurt this bad.”

He swallows thickly. 

“Those last few moments after you left—I thought that would be the worst of it. When you just walked out. And I keep seeing you do it, over and over and over, in my head like I can’t help but torture myself with it.

“I never knew it would get so much fucking worse.”

He whimpers a little, and your heart constricts unbearably. You tear at the damn thing buried underneath your sweatshirt, massaging the skin like it can soothe that phantom ache. 

Oikawa must hate you. Maybe he hates you like you hate him: not because of the breakup, but because you can go for weeks without seeing him, holding him, kissing him, and everything still hurts like that last time. 

“Thing is, I could’ve sworn you weren’t always in my life. It’s been two years. Only two years. And yet I can’t remember a damn thing before us. It feels like it was always us. Some fog, and then you, and then everything afterwards. Everything that was us.”

“And I hate that we had it so good, YN. I really do. Because missing you has been the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The frustration in his voice is familiar, a sickening sense of deja vu around it, and you latch a hand over your mouth at how vividly the image comes to you: Oikawa tearing his fingers through his hair, teeth gritted, cheeks flushed and shiny. Like when he lost a game, but different somehow. 

Like this was something he didn’t even know he could lose.

He’s crumbling in a way he doesn’t know how to stop. That ugly part about having something wonderful and new—the moment it’s gone, what the hell are you supposed to do then?

“I just—Goddamnit, I can’t stand how badly it hurts anymore. I can’t,” he cries, desperate and aching, like his hand is fisting at his heart. You can hear the breath hitching in his throat, the hiccuping breaths after his sobs. You can hear every tear, feel it against your own cheeks, a soreness building at the front of your skull. 

Too many tears. Your body is screaming at you, too many fucking tears. 

But it’s him and he was yours and you were his. 

Were. 

You were his. 

You had no idea how much that single thought could make your entire chest throb. 

Oikawa inhales, and it makes your heart race against the thick wall caging it in, squeezing against it. 

“I need to see you.” 

He says the thought like it’s just slapped him across the face. 

“I need to go see you, I—I have to.” 

He mumbles to himself unsteadily, like he’s rocking back and forth. Debating, really, what he’s supposed to do, if he should do it at all, if it’s right after everything.

You should probably think he’s wrong.

You probably shouldn’t be curled over your phone, eyes wide, mouth open, not making a fucking peep. Waiting to hear what he’s going to do. 

Maybe—just maybe—you shouldn’t be telling yourself that as the voicemail counts down to its final seconds, if he decides he’s not going to go to you, that you’ll definitely be going to him.

“I can’t just sit here. I can’t stay in here, without you. This isn’t right, I—”

Your breath hitches when you hear the frantic jingle of keys. 

Then the sound of a door slamming. 

His footsteps racing down his apartment’s stairwell.

A car engine revving. 

“I need to see you.” 

And the voicemail ends. 

_________________________

Satori Tendou: 

The message begins with a scoff of utter disbelief. 

“Is that what we’re doing now?”

He pauses, almost like he thinks you’re going to respond. 

“Heard from someone that I suddenly have syphilis. Yesterday, I had herpes though, so I guess I’m gonna have a tough week.”

A rustle like he’d shaking his head, like he can’t fucking believe it. 

“And sure, okay, I figured that’s fine. You can say all that shit, and it won’t really stick because everyone knows it was us and that it’s you and you’re hurt.”

He sighs. 

“But I saw it, sweetheart. I saw it.” The phone whines like he’s adjusting it against his face, and his voice is suddenly lower, darker. 

“You don’t get to have it both ways, you know. You can’t spread all that shit—all those rumors about how shitty everything was and how we didn’t have anything going for us—and then turn around two days later wearing my sweatshirt. And you don’t get to wear that necklace I gave you for our anniversary and then run away from me the second you see me. That’s just not fair—you’re not playing fair anymore.”

Something swishes around like loose clothing, and a large huff greets your ear from what must be Tendou collapsing into a seat. When his little sounds become quieter, that relentless humming and the excitable clicks of his tongue against his teeth, you figure he must have put the phone on speaker and balanced it on his knee like he always did. Mid-conversation with Ushiwaka, he always used to spin his phone with those long fingers, or bounce the damn thing up and down against his frantic leg. 

And the voicemail came through late last night, one of those dead hours where the only ones awake were Tendou, his scrambling thoughts, and the moths flitting back and forth outside his glowing window. He was always awake, always thinking, always doing something. 

When you’d first broken up, after one long, wrenching fight where you’d both lost your voices and the frustration welled so high you just couldn’t breathe anymore, you’d been thankful for the idea of sleeping soundly for the first time in months. 

You’d been wrong. You weren’t even sleeping anymore; just long, slow blinks where your phone screen would magically turn from 3:45 a.m. to 7:25 a.m., and in five minutes you’d have to get up and slug your way through another day. 

Tendou had been the same. Those naturally wide eyes sagged under the pressure, and the curve of his spine had deepened like he’d been hauling the lack of sleep everywhere he went. 

He must be sitting at his window now, at this moment in his message, pale skin aglow with wispy tendrils of moon. And he’s calling you. And he saw everything you’d done. 

“Not fair. Not fair at all,” he whines, teasing. Always, always teasing, and if you hadn’t heard the slight cripple in his voice on the last word, you’d have gone on thinking he viewed it as one big joke. 

You’re sure he heard the same thing you had—that he couldn’t keep acting like it was all fun and games. His usual, cat-like smile surely fell into a pert little frown, pale lips twisting like he’d sucked on a lemon. 

No fun, no fun, no fun, he must have been thinking. 

“Ya see, I thought we had a little deal,” Tendou drawls. “You’d talk smack and start dressing all pretty just to spite me, and then–and then I’d go ahead and delete all your pictures and put your name as ‘Bitch’ in my phone. And in, like, two weeks, we’d just be two ships, whoosh, whoosh, passing each other on the high seas of life, ya know?”

He breathes a ghost of a laugh. 

“But, sweetheart, you look like shit.” He chuckles for real this time, and it’s disgustingly hollow. “I’m not even kidding. Like someone ran you over three times every morning—it’s horrible, really.”

You curl into yourself even further, and you’re smiling, grinning, lips peeling with how much you’ve cried and how little water you’ve drank after. You hate him; God, you hate how he can make you laugh and cry at the same time. 

“But that’s okay, I’ll give you a pass just this once. I haven’t deleted your pictures yet, so I botched my end of the deal, too.” Tendou tsks his tongue. 

“I won’t go easy on you, though. Here–here, how’s about this: for every day you stop wearing my clothes—because they look horrible on you, sweetheart; really, you’re painful to watch—I’ll delete one of your pictures, eh? That means, in about–uhhdivideby365daysinayearignoringleapyearbullshit–ah, seven years, I’ll have held up my end. S’that good with you?”

You lean your head back, letting the tears flood your hair as he chuckles to himself. 

“Fuck it,” he says after a pause. Hopeless. Breathless. “Fuck it.” He must be gnawing on that pale lower lip, biting and nibbling until it bleeds. Because he lets something go to sigh again, and he must have smacked his head against the wall, and then you think he sniffled. 

“I still want you. I’ve always wanted you. And I’m tired of missing you and wanting you. Doing both hurts too much.”

Tendou soughs.

“So I’m still your Chicken Tendy, baby. Always. And I’ll be here when you're ready, syphilis and all.”

#haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyu x reader #satori x reader #oikawa tooru #tendou satori #satori tendou #tooru oikawa #haikyuu x reader angst #haikyuu headcanons

[d0youc0py]

Mentions of NSFW

It was your fault. You weren’t being present and reached to move a tray out of the way, not remembering that you had just taken it out of the oven. Before you could grasp it Simon’s hand flung forward gripping your arm a little tighter than he should have.

“Ouch.” You said instinctively. A pit formed in his stomach. He immediately let go.

“Fucking hell.” He grumbled. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.” He apologized. His rich eyes were looking over you with worry.

“It’s alright, Si.” You assured. Your forearm throbbed, but you weren’t about to mention that to him.

“You sure?” His voice was soft and nervous. Like a child waiting to get yelled at by a parent. You nodded your head, leaning forward pressing a kiss on his check.

“I’m sure.”

<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>

It was the next morning and you were being woken up in the usual way. Butt pats. You groaned and buried yourself deeper into the chest you were sleeping on. “No.” You grumbled.

“Are you saying you don’t wanna see my handsome face?” God he had the best morning voice. You blew a raspberry into his chest. “Already starting off grumpy, yeah?” His hands finally left your bottom in exchange for tickling at you side.

“No!” You squealed, quickly sitting up.

“Now this is what I wake up for.” He smirked, resting his hands on your hips. Your rolled your eyes and rested your hands on his broad chest. His eyes quickly fled down wanting nothing more than to catch sight of that expensive wedding band on your finger. But something else caught his attention. He sat up quickly and your hands went grappling towards his shoulders to steady yourself. “No.” He murmured to himself. He grabbed your arm softly, suddenly you saw what he was talking about. Your heart sunk. Not because of what you saw, but because you knew he was going to beat himself up.

Two tiny bruises marked your skin, probably from his thumb and middle finger.

“Simon, please don’t beat yourself up.” You requested. His eyes were wide and you could practically hear his internal dialog. “It was an accident, you were trying to make sure I didn’t burn myself. Besides it’s not like this is the first time you’ve left bruises on me.” You joked. You have the bite marks on your thighs to prove it.

“It’s not the same.” He grumbled. “I didn’t mean to Sweetheart.” He looked at you and you couldn’t help but tear up. He looked so ashamed of himself.

“I know you didn’t.” You assured. “Please don’t let this ruin our day.” You pleaded. He was going to get shipped off in a few days. The both of you always seemed to get a little emotional beforehand. He nodded his head in agreement.

“I’ll make it up to you.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Pancakes?”

Between the fireplace and you cuddled up in his lap, he was melted into his chair. Your fingers traced along the jagged scar of his forearm. Every so often you would move your head to press a quick kiss to his collar bone.

“You ready to go upstairs?” You mumbled, barely even to keep your eyes open yourself. He shook his head.

“A few more minutes.” His mumbled back, his lips pressed against the side of your head. Your fingers left his arm, favoring to curl themselves into his soft shirt. His eyes began to began to droop. The cigar resting between his loose fingers dropped. His eyes flung open.

“Ah!” Your hands flung down, shooing the cigar away from your leg. You practically threw yourself off of his lap, your hand still brushing away the ashes.

“Shit!” He growled. He stomped out the cigar on the floor, ignoring the heat that seeped through his slipper. “You alright. Where’d I get you?” Before you could even tell him he scooped you up in his arms, carrying you to the kitchen, placing you down on the counter.

“Knee.” You replied. He dug around for the first aid kit, finding the burn cream. He winced as his saw a burn in the shape of a perfect circle marking your knee.

“I’m so sorry, Sweetheart.” Once he was done applying the cream he bandaged it, finishing it off with a kiss.

“It was an accident.” You cuddled yourself into his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around you.

“I’ve been meaning to give up smokin’ anyway.” He sighed. He peppered your whole head and face with kisses, making you giggle.

He actually did quit.

Mentions of NSFW

Mentions of death

You were normally a very sound sleeper. Especially with your boyfriends arms wrapped so protectively around you. The thing that normal helped you sleep, woke you up.

“Johnny.” You gasped. He always had one arm around your waist and the other arm was usually wrapped around you neck- something you struggled to get use to when you first started sharing a bed. His arms tightened around you, making it a challenge to breath. You began to squirm, hoping you could break free- or wake him up. You were no match for him. You couldn’t even move your arms, so you did the only thing you could think of. “Johnny!” It wasn’t the loudest you had ever yelled his name, but it did the trick. He gasped awake, his arms quickly leaving you. Your lungs sang as air filled them up again.

“Bonnie?” He whispered. So quiet you didn’t hear him. He was sitting up, watching you with teary eyes. He wasn’t sure what he had done, but he knew it wasn’t good. You heard a whimper next to you. You could make out his shaking figure, even in the pitch black room.

“Jo?” You whispered. You suddenly realized there must’ve been a reason he was squeezing you so hard. “You have a nightmare again?” He’s been having them more frequently since his last mission, you couldn’t get out of him why.

“I hurt you?” He whispered again. His fingers pulled at his messy hair. You quickly shook your head.

You sat up and scooted closer to him, resting your lips against his shoulder. “It didn’t hurt. It was a little tighter than one of your bear hugs, but it didn’t hurt.” You assured against him. He didn’t seem convinced.

“Can I hold you?” His voice was weak. It was like you were speaking to a stranger. You missed the growl he had in his voice. It always gave you goosebumps. You pulled his legs away from his chest and nuzzled your way into his lap. He pressed you against him, almost purring as he buried his face in your hair. “I’m so sorry.”

“Tell me what’s been bothering you. Please.” You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed. “I bet it’ll help you feel better.”

“You know I don’t like to tell you that stuff.” He lied. He loved to tell you what a badass he had been. He always made sure to leave out the gory bits though.

“Jo.” You begged. “I’m a big kid, I can handle it.” He sighed.

“Me and Simon were going through a warehouse and there was this woman laying on the ground.” A shiver ran through him. His eyes pressed themselves shut and he felt the same wave of nausea pass over him. He pressed on. “She had, expired.” You rolled your eyes at his choice of words. “I couldn’t see her face, but she had the same exact hair color as you. For a split second I thought she was you. I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. The thought of you laying on the hard ground. Cold, scared and alone.”

You didn’t even bother to hold back a tear. It explained everything. Why he came home early (he had told you it was because he had done such a great job). Why he hadn’t left your side for the past month (not that you were complaining). The nightmares.

“You don’t need to say anything.” He whispered. “I know you’re alive, and safe. It’s just an image I have to shake.” Telling you did make him feel better. “Can I still hold you while we sleep?” He asked.

“You better, Johnny. I have a hard time sleeping otherwise.”

#cod #cod men #d0youc0py #doyoucopy #cod mw2 #cod mwf2 #cod x reader #fluff #sfw #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon x reader #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #captain price #captain price x reader #gn reader

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part Seven: The Hotel Encounter

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Wednesday came around quicker than you thought, eight o'clock rolled around, and you found yourself standing outside the Westin Hotel lobby like a lost puppy. The hotel's grandeur and sophistication overwhelmed you, and you couldn't help but compare its opulence to the dimly lit jazz club where you first laid eyes on Cillian.

You squared your shoulders, trying to summon some confidence. Taking a deep breath, you crossed the threshold into the marble-floored lobby. The scent of expensive perfume and designer cologne hung heavily in the air, and you could hear soft classical music playing somewhere in the background.

The sound of hushed conversations and the occasional click of heels on marble floors filled the space. You scanned the crowd, searching for Cillian. When you caught sight of him, your heart skipped a beat.

"Hey," Cillian greeted, his voice low and smooth, sending shivers down your spine. "You made it," he added, gesturing towards a secluded table tucked away in the corner. "Shall we sit?" he asked, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from him.

The familiar warmth spread through your chest, and your palms grew slick with perspiration. Leading you to the table, Cillian pulled out a chair for you. Once seated, you could feel his gaze boring into you, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. Your heart thumped erratically, and your mind raced with a jumble of memories and desires. .

"So," you said, shifting in your seat after sitting down at the quiet table in the corner, "How is Max doing? He is back at home now, isn't he?"

Cillian's eyes held a faraway look, his lips quirking upward ever so slightly. "He is and he is doing well, considering the circumstances," he said, taking a sip of his drink. "He has lost his license, and his car insurance won't cover the damages to the car, but he's alive, thank God."

"I know. I am glad," you spoke nervously before you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the inevitable question.

"So, what did you want to discuss with me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady and, immediately, guilt began to form in Cillian's mind. 

"To tell you the truth, I don't really know. After seeing you again at the hospital, I..." Cillian began to trail off, stammering nervously. "I just wanted to see you," Cillian confessed, his voice barely audible. "So that I could apologize and explain myself, to tell you that what happened between us was...," he added before trailing off again. 

He looked down for a moment and then continued, his voice wavering slightly. "I really fucked up Y/N, but I cannot stop thinking about you," he told you before he wiped his brow with his sleeve, looking genuinely concerned. "I know that what happened between us was a mistake. It was fucking wrong because I cheated on my wife with you, but I just can't seem to shake you off my mind," Cillian admitted, his gaze locked on you, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Cillian, I--" you started, your voice catching in your throat. "We both know it was wrong," you managed to say, your heart pounding hard enough to rattle your ribcage. "And I don't know what to say other than that I am sorry for putting you into this situation. I should not have pursued you," you added, wringing your hands nervously, thinking about the fact that he was married and that you used to date his son. This was all so complicated, so messed up, and whilst you craved him, you knew that this wouldn't lead to anything prosperous. 

"Y/N, you didn't put me into this situation," Cillian countered, taking a deep breath. "I did this myself and, if I remember correctly, I was the one who pursued you, not the other way around," he confessed before he darted his eyes downwards for a brief moment, looking ashamed. "I should not have done it," he mumbled, shaking his head, "but I cannot help but wonder what it would be like if we got to spend some more time together," he then gazed at you intently, his expression serious and determined.

"Cillian," you whispered, shaking your head. "This is insane," you told him before you tried to stand up from your seat only to be halted by Cillian laying his arm across the back of your chair.

"Please, just listen to me," he implored you, his voice hoarse and strained from desperation. "I realize that we shouldn't be having this conversation, but I simply cannot help it. Every time I think about you, I want more. It's like a fucking addiction," Cillian confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"We can't do this," you reminded him, averting your gaze, afraid of the depths of desire reflected in his eyes. "You're married," you pointed out bluntly, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "And I dated your son," you added, the guilt gnawing at your gut.

"I know," Cillian groaned, his frustration evident in each tortured syllable. "But tell me that you don't want this too," he urged, causing you to pause, your heart racing madly in your chest.

Torn between reason and desire, you studied Cillian's handsome face, tracing the lines of his chiseled features with your gaze. His eyes were pleading, beseeching you to give in to the forbidden attraction that simmered between you just as the waiter came by, finally wanting to take your order.

"What can I get you?" the young man asked, flashing a dazzling smile at you both. You and Cillian exchanged awkward glances before you quickly looked away, focusing on the menu instead.

"A bottle of Bordeaux, but can we have it brought up to the room please?" you nervously said to the waiter before Cillian could respond to his question and your request left him baffled. 

"Of course. What is your room number, ma'am," the waiter asked politely, glancing between you and Cillian curiously.

 "It's 309," Cillian answered, his voice low and gruff as you stood up and reached for your bag with fidgeting hands. 

"What are you doing?" Cillian asked, his voice husky as he watched you stand up.

"Going to your room," you answered him matter-of-factly. You felt nervous, the excitement coursing through your veins like a drug.  "Isn't that what you wanted?" you whispered, turning to face Cillian. The air between you vibrated with pent-up energy, like a storm brewing under the calm surface of a lake. You could practically feel the electric charge between you, and it pushed you forward. 

Cillian nodded nervously, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat like a tiny pulse. "Yes," he whispered, and you couldn't help but blush. 

"Good, then lets go before my conscience kicks in and guilt gets the better of me," you mumbled before Cillian stood up as well and followed you toward the elevators.

Once the elevator doors closed, Cillian let out a sigh of relief, and you pressed the button for the third floor.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair away from your face.

His touch was warm and gentle, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. 

You searched his gaze, finding comfort in the vulnerability etched into his expressive eyes. "Yes," you replied, your voice soft and certain, before you allowed your fingertips to graze his cheek affectionately.

"I am sure about this," you assured him, your eyes never straying from his mesmerizing gaze before, eventually, the elevator doors slid open with a soft whir, and you stepped out onto the third floor with Cillian hot on your heels.

You adjusted your dress nervously, smoothing down the fabric and glancing around the hall, making sure no one was watching you two. The dim lighting masked your expressions as you moved towards the indicated room number, your heart beating like a war drum in your chest.

Cillian pulled his key card from his jeans pocket, swiping it along the slot and hearing the soft mechanical click signaling the door had unlocked. He turned the handle delicately, leading you both inside the darkened room.

"Let me turn on the lights," he suggested, fumbling around the wall switch before the soft glow flooded the room, bathing you both in a comforting warmth.

Your nerves skyrocketed as you saw the plush king-sized bed situated right in front of you, and your heart fluttered in anticipation.

Cillian guided you gently towards the center of the room, his grip tightening around your hand subtly as if urging you closer. Your skin prickled from the tension between you both, creating a magnetic pull that neither of you could ignore. You peered up at him, finding solace in his blue eyes which mirrored the uncertainty that danced within your own and, not long after that, your lips finally collided. 

The kiss was passionate yet gentle, a dance of tongues and teeth, your bodies pressing closer and closer, almost losing balance.

Despite the lingering guilt clouding your mind, the thrill of his presence ignited a fire within you—a flame that refused to be extinguished.

Cillian's hands roamed over your body, exploring curves and valleys, moving to unbutton your dress with trembling fingers. You could sense the urgency in his movements, the raw desire simmering just below the surface.

With trembling hands, Cillian untied the string holding your dress together, exposing your black lace bra and panties, leaving nothing to the imagination. Your breath hitched as you watched him gaze hungrily at your exposed flesh, his eyes dark with lust.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion before he pressed his lips against your neck, kissing and sucking gently, leaving red marks that stung pleasantly. You moaned softly, arching your back as his hands moved lower, cupping your ass and pulling you closer as, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Room Service," a male voice called out from beyond the entrance, causing Cillian to freeze mid-kiss.

"Ignore it," you muttered, clutching Cillian tightly, unwilling to break the spell that had enveloped you both.

"I can't," Cillian replied, releasing you gently before walking towards the door with his face covered in your lipstick. "It was you who ordered the wine," he then chuckled before he opened the door just a crack, whispering something quietly to the room service attendant waiting on the other side. There was a brief exchange of words before the sound of heavy footsteps fading away echoed through the room.

"Thank you," Cillian murmured, closing the door firmly behind him and placing the bottle of Bordeaux you had ordered minutes earlier on the desk besides the door.

He turned to face you, a crooked grin playing on his lips when he saw that you had taken off your bra and were waiting for him on top of the bed.

"Looks like I am not the only one in a hurry," he joked before pulling his t-shirt over his head, revealing his lean torso. His chest was covered in freckles and featured a small patch of chest-hair, both of which was something you considered particularly attractive. 

He then went to unbuckle his belt, slowly sliding his pants down, revealing his CK briefs, already straining against his growing erection.

"I can't wait to feel you inside me again," you whispered as desire pooled inside of you like molten lava threatening to erupt, consuming every rational thought.

Cillian smiled seductively, stepping out of his clothing completely, leaving him naked and gloriously erect before you.

You swallowed dryly, your mouth feeling parched as you admired his sculpted physique. He was perfection embodied, and your heart pounded wildly in your chest as you ran your eyes all over his gorgeous form.

"You are so hard already," you purred, reaching out to touch the throbbing bulge nestled snugly between his legs.

Cillian groaned, his breathing labored as he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from proceeding.

"Not yet," he growled, his voice laced with raw lust.

"I want to taste you first," he added, stepping closer to the bed with a predatory glint in his eye. "Making you cum with my mouth is what I have been dreaming about every fucking night," he then told you and you bit your lip, feeling an unfamiliar wave of excitement wash over you.

"Really?" you mused, your voice dripping with feigned innocence. "Because I was thinking that maybe it would be more fun if I get to taste you again first," you teased, a mischievous spark dancing in your eyes.

"Oh, I'm definitely going to enjoy that," Cillian groaned, his cock twitching eagerly in response as he prowled towards the bed like a predator zeroing in on its prey. "But ladies first," he asserted before pinning you down beneath him. "I want to hear you come undone," he asserted and you did not dare to argue. 

"Alright, if you insist," you moaned as Cillian skillfully removed your panties with a single tug, leaving you bare and vulnerable.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your inner thigh softly causing a pleasant shiver to run down your spine. He traced kisses down your leg, slowly working his way towards your core.

"You smell so fucking good," he commented before he took a moment to appreciate your wetness visibly staining the sheets underneath you.

"You're soaked," he noted appreciatively, and your heart raced at the sheer pleasure he derived from your arousal.

Cillian kissed and caressed your inner thighs, his hot breath teasing your sensitive skin.

"Fuck," you whimpered, squirming beneath him as he lowered his head, his lips hovering inches above your quivering mound. You could feel his warm breath on your moist flesh, raising goosebumps on your skin.

Your breath quickened, a wave of anticipation washing over you like a tidal surge.

"Tell me how much you want it," he commanded, leaning forward, his eyes smoldering with passion.

"I want it so much!" you cried out, bucking your hips in anticipation. Cillian's eyes gleamed with triumph as he parted your folds gently, revealing your swollen clit, pulsating with need. He licked his lips, savoring the sweet aroma emanating from your sex.

"Please!" you then begged, your voice cracking with desperation. "Just touch me, taste me, make me cum!"

Cillian grinned wickedly, his eyes sparkling with anticipation before lowering his lips ever so slightly.

You moaned loudly, thrashing your head from side to side, desperate for release. Your pussy throbbed, yearning for attention, and you arched your back, offering up your slick slit to Cillian who, finally obliged. 

His tongue darted out, flicking your engorged nub lightly before diving in, delving deeper into your wet depths. You moaned loudly, grinding your hips into his face eagerly as he explored your folds with fervent abandon.

"Fuck yes," you screamed, your voice echoing off the walls of the luxurious bedroom. "That feels so good!" you moaned before running your hands through his hair. 

"So fucking good," you whispered, panting heavily as Cillian continued to lap at your slick folds with a feverish hunger. His tongue swirled around your clit, teasing you mercilessly before plunging back inside your dripping pussy. Your entire body convulsed with pleasure, and you bucked wildly beneath him, desperately seeking release.

"Oh god, I'm going to cum!" you screamed, your voice hoarse with ecstasy. Cillian's ears perked up at your cry, and he began to lick faster, harder, his tongue stabbing into your wet hole relentlessly.

You clawed at the sheets, screaming obscenities, begging for the pressure to continue.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, yes!" you hollered, as the waves of pleasure built inside you, threatening to break any second now.

Cillian latched onto your clit, sucking it hard between his lips, making you scream louder.

You grabbed fistfuls of the silken duvet, nails digging into the material as intense spasms rocked your core.

"Cillian, fuck!" you screamed, the words escaping in ragged gasps.

Cillian groaned, lapping up your juices greedily, reveling in your cries, his cock throbbing painfully against his briefs. He loved seeing you lose control, watching your body surrender to the overwhelming sensations sweeping through you as, finally, your orgasm hit you. 

You shook violently, clinging onto reality as everything around you faded, leaving only the sensation of euphoria, a blissful void that swept you higher and higher until you exploded.

Cillian released your clit, swallowing your juices with relish, enjoying the taste of your desire. He rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes burning with satisfaction.

"That was quick," he remarked, a smirk curling his lips. "I didn't expect you to cum so fast," he admitted and, seeing that you were much younger and inexperienced than him, this was a huge turn on for you both.

You exhaled sharply, still reeling from the explosive climax you had just experienced.

"Well, you clearly got some skills in that department, Mr Murphy," you teased, playfully running your fingers through his sweaty hair.

Cillian chuckled, his eyes shining with pride. "So I've been told," he mused, stroking your damp thigh tenderly before you pushed him beneath you as, slowly, but surely, you came down from your high. 

"I suppose it is my turn to pleasure you now sir," you declared, crawling towards him with a sultry smile on your face before reaching for the hem of his briefs. "And I want to suck you so good that you beg me for mercy," you whispered softly into his ear, your hot breath tickling his neck.

Cillian groaned, gripping the edge of the mattress as you slowly pulled down his underwear, revealing his impressive, fully erect length.

"Oh god Cills," you cooed, reaching out to stroke him gently. "You are so hard for me, and dripping already," you moaned with approval as Cillian's eyes widened with anticipation, his cock twitching eagerly in your grasp.

"Please," he whispered weakly, his voice cracking with desire. 

"Please what?" you asked coyly, stroking Cillian's cock gently with your thumb.

The head of his shaft was shiny with pre-cum, reflecting the light in the dimly lit room. "Tell me what you want, Cillian," you added, biting your lip suggestively.

Cillian swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat. "I want you to take me into your mouth," he uttered, his voice breaking. "Please," he then begged again and you smiled, nodding your head slowly.

"I'm going to enjoy this," you said, licking your lips hungrily before leaning down to lick the pre-cum of his slit.

The taste of him made your head spin, and you moaned softly, slurping his tip gently. "God, you taste so good," you whispered, squeezing his balls gently, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Cillian before you used your mouth to fully engulf him. 

Swallowing him whole, you sucked him hard, moaning around his cock as you worked your tongue around his head, swirling it in circles.

"Oh fuck," Cillian groaned, thrusting upwards into your mouth, desperate for more.

Your mouth bobbed up and down, the saliva lubricating your movements and making sloppy sounds that filled the quiet room.

"Y/N," Cillian whimpered, grabbing at your hair, his fingers tangling in your locks. "Slow down," he pleaded, his voice strained and broken.

He reached for your hair, attempting to guide your rhythm. Yet, you remained stubborn, continuing to suck him hard, knowing full well that he would soon lose control. 

You heard him moan, felt his cock pulsing, and smelled the scent of his arousal, all signs that he was close to the edge.

"Y/N," Cillian gasped, his voice hoarse and desperate. "I'm close," he groaned, and you didn't answer him - you didn't even look up, instead choosing to increase the suction and speed, eager to drain him completely.

The sound of his cock pumping in and out of your mouth became deafening, like a heartbeat filling the room. He was close now, his cock swelling in your mouth, and he started to thrust into you harder until, abruptly, he stopped.

"Stop," he breathed out, sounding surprised and relieved. "I can't take anymore of this," he gasped after ten minutes of your onslaught before you reluctantly released him, licking your lips, tasting the saltiness of his precum mixed with your saliva.

"The first time I cum tonight needs to be inside you. I am begging you," he panted, pulling you closer, your breasts mashed against his chest. You could hear his heart pounding furiously in his chest, matching yours.

"You are begging me, huh?" you teased, nibbling on his earlobe softly. "I love it when you beg," you whispered, licking his neck sensually. "Especially coming from you, this is such a turn on," you told him just before Cillian groaned deeply, his muscles stiffening beneath you.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," he grunted, his erection throbbing against your belly. "But yes, I'm begging you, Y/N. Please, let me cum inside you," he rasped, his voice husky with longing.

"Why do you want to cum inside me?" you asked Cillian, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Because it is so fucking intimate," Cillian sighed, his voice rough and raw with desire. "Feeling you contract around me, as I spill myself deep inside you," he admitted, his tone earnest and sincere.

"Also, it is somewhat taboo," he whispered, his breath fanning across your neck as he held you tight. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to explode. "Which is exactly why I want it," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. 

"Me too," you agreed, your voice soft and sultry. "I want to feel you fill me up with your cum," you confessed, your words slipping past your lips like silk. "And then, when I go to my lectures tomorrow, I want to feel it leaking out of me little by little, reminding me of our encounter each time I walk," you teased, causing Cillian to groan loudly. 

"Don't say it like that or I won't last much longer," he chuckled, squeezing your hips tighter as you kissed him passionately while, at the same time, climbing atop of him and aligning his hardness with your wetness. 

"Okay, no talking then," you giggled, sitting on his lap and positioning yourself over his member. "Just moaning," you teased, taking a deep breath and lowering yourself on him inch by excruciating inch.

"Shit," Cillian gasped, throwing his head back and grabbing onto the pillows as you impaled yourself on his cock, feeling the head of his penis stretch you wide open before sliding inside, deeper and deeper.

"Oh god," you moaned, rocking your hips slowly as you sank down further, taking his entire length inside you.

"You feel so good," Cillian groaned, reaching up to massage your breasts gently, his thumbs circling your nipples. "So fucking tight," he added, his voice husky with lust as you started to ride him.

You both knew that you wouldn't last long; the atmosphere in the room was thick with anticipation, and your bodies ached for one another.

As you moved on top of him, your pelvis grinding against his, the friction was enough to send you both spiraling into oblivion.

"Harder," Cillian urged, reaching down to squeeze your ass cheeks, encouraging you to bounce on him.

You did as instructed, moving with reckless abandon, lost in the heat of the moment.

Each thrust sent shockwaves coursing through your body, intensifying the feelings building inside you. Cillian's hands gripped your hips tightly, urging you on, helping you reach new heights of pleasure.

"Fuck, you are so tight around my cock," he groaned, his voice hoarse with lust as you rode him and those words struck a chord deep within you, setting your blood ablaze. You moaned loudly, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you moved on top of him with renewed vigor.

Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, and you bit your lip, trying to contain the screams building in your throat.

"So good," Cillian encouraged, his hands roaming all over your body, tracing patterns on your skin. "So fucking good," he groaned, his voice low and guttural.

You threw your head back, letting out a primal scream as you slammed yourself down on him, harder and faster than ever before until Cillian felt the need to slow things down.

Abruptly, he maneuvered you beneath him, taking control as he moved into a missionary position. 

With each deliberate entry, he gazed into your eyes, a mixture of lust and admiration evident in his expression. His gaze was steady, unwavering, like a man drowning in the ocean of your passion.

"How does it feel?" he asked "Does it feel good?" he questioned and you nodded, unable to speak.

The words caught in your throat, choking you in their intensity. 

You wanted to tell him how wonderful it felt, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, you simply nodded, eyes locked on his face.

Cillian watched you intently, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a sly grin. "Good," he said, his voice husky with lust. 

He slid his hands under your thighs, guiding them to rest on his shoulders. "Lift up," he instructed, his voice firm but gentle. You obeyed without hesitation, your heart pounding in your chest.

The room seemed to shrink around you, trapping your thoughts in a suffocating loop of lust and anticipation. Each thrust sent ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, and you couldn't help but let out a low moan of approval.

"Yes," Cillian hissed, his eyes locked on yours. "Like that."

He pumped into you steadily, his grip tightening around your hips. With each powerful thrust, he pushed himself deeper inside you, driving you closer to the brink.

"I'm close," you managed to utter through clenched teeth as he thrusted into you with slow but steady thrusts. 

Your body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release.

"I know," Cillian responded, his voice hushed yet intense. "Let go for me. Give in," he coaxed, his tone soothing yet commanding.

And with those words, the dam broke. Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, crashing into you with such force that it left you gasping for air. You cried out, your voice echoing in the silent room, as your body convulsed around Cillian's cock.

The intensity of your orgasm overwhelmed you, stealing your breath and clouding your vision.

"I'm going to cum," Cillian gasped, his voice strained and desperate. "Can you feel it?" he asked, his gaze never wavering from yours.

You nodded, biting your lip to stop the screams from escaping. The feeling of him throbbing inside you was indescribable and, just like that, with a low groan, he came undone.

"Fuck," he cursed, his eyes shut fiercely as he emptied himself inside you, his cock pulsing with each release.

His entire body shuddered, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as he struggled to catch his breath.

You could feel his warmth seeping into you, his essence mixing with your own. His weight pressed down on you, cocooning you between the soft sheets.

Your heart thumped madly, the echoes blending together, creating a symphony of chaos within your chest. You stared back at him, your gaze transfixed upon his beautiful face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, the concern in his voice palpable.

"Yeah," you replied, the word scarcely audible to even your own ears. "I'm fine. Just...amazing," you added, your voice shaking.

He looked at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Good," he then said, his voice hushed yet intense. "Although, don't think that we are done here yet," he told you while easing himself out of you gently, causing you to moan once more. 

"So, you want me to stay the night then?" you asked Cillian, breaking the tranquil silence enveloping the entire room.

His eyes locked onto yours, a smoldering ember flickering in their depths, before nodding slowly.

"Only if you want to," he replied, his voice laced with uncertainty despite conveying an offer you knew he really wanted you to accept. 

"I would love to," you responded nonchalantly, giving him a peck on the cheek before sitting up carefully, maneuvering away from the mess beneath you and it was in that moment that Cillian's cellphone rang. 

The ringtone echoed through the room, jarring him from your afterglow as he reached for his phone lying on the bedside table.

Seeing the name "Danielle" come up on the screen, you knew that this was his wife calling him and, immediately, he paused, looking at you with pleading eyes for a few seconds before answering the call.

"Hey," he spoke calmly into the receiver, his voice betraying none of the events that had transpired earlier between you. "What's up?" he wanted to know and, much to your surprise, she appeared angry and, even though she wasn't on speaker, you could hear the entire conversation between them simply due to the loudness of her voice.

"How dare you treat your son like that, Cillian!" Danielle screeched into the phone, her voice trembling with anger. 

"Treat him like what? What the fuck are you talking about?" Cillian asked calmly, the confusion apparent in his voice.

"Max just told me that you wouldn't get him a lawyer, nor would you be paying to get his car fixed," Danielle spat out, her voice cold and unforgiving. "You basically disowned him because of that accident and, if you ask me, that's not fair, Cillian!" she shouted.

Cillian sighed into the phone, his shoulders dropping slightly as he tried to calm himself down.

"Look, Danny," he began hesitantly, trying to explain his side of the situation. "Max knows what he did. He fucked up and he will have to deal with the consequences of his mistake," he insisted firmly. "He is an adult and can take responsibility for his actions," Cillian argued defensively.

"So, you're actually sticking to this bullshit line?" Danielle snapped back incredulously. "He's your son, Cillian. It's your duty to support him through tough times like these," she stated bluntly.

"I know that he is my son," Cillian sighed heavily, rubbing his temples in frustration. "And as his father it is my responsibility to ensure that he grows up to be a decent human being, which won't happen by spoiling him and fixing his mistakes," he explained patiently.

Danielle snorted derisively, her voice laced with sarcasm. "And what makes you think that you're doing a good job at that?" she challenged him. "You are never fucking home. You much rather hang out with your females co-stars than your family," Danielle accused him harshly.

"Here we go again," Cillian muttered irritably under his breath, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"We've talked about this countless times," he reasoned calmly. "My work requires me to spend long hours on set and travel to promote the films," he reminded her. "And I don't choose to socialize with the actresses I work with," he added pointedly.

"You sure act like it sometimes," Danielle retorted sharply. "Remember the last scandal surrounding you and Florence Pugh?" she reminded him. "It was plastered all over the media and gossip magazines," Danielle hissed, referring to the infamous red carpet event where Cillian was rumored to have left with Florence following some flirtatious banter. 

"For the millionth time, I did not cheat on you with Florence Pugh," Cillian insisted, his temper flaring up. "She is my colleague. We were merely having a chat and people jumped to conclusions," he clarified vehemently. "Now, I am going to hang up the phone and we will discuss this later," he decided, feeling tired arguing with Danielle over something that wasn't true.

"Suit yourself," Danielle shot back coldly, slamming the phone down, cutting off Cillian mid-sentence.

The abrupt end to the conversation left Cillian feeling defeated and frustrated but, most importantly, confused about how to react towards Danielle.

"I'm sorry," he apologized to you quietly, his voice heavy with guilt. 

"It's fine. I should probably go," you said, standing up from the bed and beginning to gather your clothes strewn across the floor. You were trying to process the sudden shift in mood, and the tension created by listening to Cillian's heated discussion with his wife.

"No, wait," Cillian said, reaching out to touch your arm. "I would like you to stay," he admitted, his eyes pleading.

You hesitated, glancing at the phone still resting on the bedside table. "Are you sure about that?" you asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Yes, I am sure," Cillian responded quietly and you studied him closely, trying to gauge whether he truly wanted you to stay or if he was simply being polite.

After a moment of contemplation, you shrugged nonchalantly. "Alright," you agreed, tossing your dress back onto the chair.

"But I hope you know what you are getting yourself into," you warned Cillian, walking back over to the bed and sitting down beside him, wearing only your panties.

"I do," Cillian assured you, his eyes shining with resolve. "And I want you to know that you won't regret staying," he promised, his voice soft and warm.

You arched an eyebrow in amusement, noticing the change in his demeanor compared to moments ago. "So, what's the plan then?" you asked, curious to see how he would handle the situation.

"Well, we could start by ordering room service," Cillian suggested, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "I am starving," he admitted, his stomach growling in agreement.

"That sounds perfect," you responded enthusiastically, picking up the menu card on the bedside table.

Cillian picked up the phone and dialed room service, requesting a cheese platter, fruit bowl, and some other snacks. Once he hung up the phone, he turned back to you and smiled.

"They said it would be about 45 minutes," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Would you like to have a bath?" he asked, eyeing you seductively.

You hesitated for a moment, glancing at the bathroom door before smiling back at him. "Together?" you asked, causing him to nod. 

"Yes," you agreed, slipping off your panties and leaving them on the floor. Cillian followed suit, leaving his boxers discarded on the ground.

Entering the bathroom together, you marveled at the size of the tub. It could easily fit two people comfortably and you lost no time in turning on the faucet and adding bubbles for a relaxing soak. 

Climbing into the water first, you gestured for Cillian to join you. The water was warm and inviting, enveloping you in a comforting embrace. You watched as Cillian stepped in behind you, his knees brushing against your legs.

He reached for a bottle of bath oil and poured a generous amount into the water, creating a delightful aroma that filled the air.

"God I wish I had a tub like this," you mused aloud, enjoying the sensation of floating effortlessly in the water.

"Well, maybe someday," Cillian replied, running his hands along your arm, his fingertips grazing your skin lightly.

"Maybe," you agreed, smiling wistfully. "For now I have to make do with a dorm room and group shower facilities," you chuckled, playfully splashing the water at Cillian.

He laughed and splashed you back before pulling you in for a kiss. It was a brief reprieve from the heaviness of the conversation he had shared with his wife earlier - and, somehow, it made everything else seem easier to bear.

You and Cillian spent a comfortable thirty minutes in the bathtub, chatting about music, dreams, and aspirations. You shared stories from your life on campus and how you navigated yourself through medical school while Cillian interjected with comments and questions, one which caught you off guard.

"If you don't mind me asking," he began hesitantly, "why did you break up with Max?" he asked, bringing up a subject you hadn't expected. You took a deep breath in, considering your response. "I mean, you were together for a while," he prodded gently, not wanting to upset you.

"I...," you stammered, staring down at the water, feeling the awkwardness creeping up on you.

"I am sorry. I shouldn't have asked. You don't need to answer that," Cillian quickly countered sympathetically, his fingers tracing circles on your shoulder.

"We were at and still are at different stages of our lives," you explained thoughtfully, avoiding his gaze. "So, our paths simply diverged I suppose and this led me to break up with him," you told Cillian, watching his reaction.

"I understand," he nodded, appearing thoughtful. "Sometimes life takes us on different roads, regardless of how much we may wish otherwise," he offered reassuringly and you couldn't help but state the obvious.

"On a road where I am sleeping with my ex-boyfriend's father?" you joked, half-seriously and half-nervous. Cillian chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the edges with amusement. "I guess so," he replied, reaching out to trace a line down your arm. "Who would've thought, eh?" he then murmured as he was feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips.

"Not me, definitely not me," you confessed, allowing a nervous laugh to escape before you asked Cillian an equally important question.

"I am curious though," you began cautiously, "Do you still love your wife?"

You swallowed hard, knowing that this was a sensitive topic and that his response might lead to an unexpected turn of events.

"No," he answered swiftly. "And if I would, then you wouldn't be here right now," Cillian answered with a subtle hint of sadness in his voice. "Our relationship has been complicated for a long time," he revealed honestly, reaching out to stroke your damp hair affectionately. "There have been arguments, misunderstandings, and many sleepless nights spent fighting to maintain our connection," he continued. "I suppose, somewhere along the way, we stopped loving each other," he concluded, his voice cracking slightly.

"Then why don't you divorce her? I mean, Max is an adult now and he would understand, right?" you ventured tentatively, still unsure of how Cillian would respond to your query.

"Because I haven't found the courage to do so," Cillian confessed frankly, his voice quivering slightly. "I always thought that, maybe, what is broken can be mended," he added sadly, running a hand through his wet hair. "But what we have become..." he trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Her jealousy caused most of our problems over time and, for the past ten years, she continuously accused me of cheating on her," Cillian sighed deeply, sinking further into the water. 

"But you didn't?" you pressed, your curiosity piqued, and Cillian shook his head slowly.

"Not once," he insisted adamantly. "At least not until now," he corrected himself, his gaze lingering on you. "And you know what the worst part of this is?" he asked rhetorically, his voice trailing off. "I don't even feel that guilty now, for being with you," he confessed, leaning closer. "It feels wrong, yet so damn right," he murmured, pressing his lips against your neck.

You pulled him closer, feeling the electricity between you surge through your veins. "You're not alone there," you whispered, your voice catching in your throat. "Like I said earlier, I never thought I'd be in this situation with my ex-boyfriend's dad," you admitted, a hint of laughter in your voice.

Cillian smiled, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "I guess we're both pretty messed up, huh?" he teased, reaching out to pull you closer. Without hesitation, you nestled your head against his chest, savoring the warmth of his embrace just as there was yet another knock on the door.

"Room service," announced a voice from outside, and Cillian reluctantly released you, wrapping a towel around his waist before stepping out of the tub to answer the door.

As soon as he returned, tray in hand, you wasted no time in grabbing a slice of cheese and nibbling on it. 

"This is delicious," you then remarked appreciatively before climbing back on to the bed with a fluffy towel wrapped around your body. 

"I'm glad you approve," Cillian grinned, offering you a piece of bread before suggesting for you to spend the next few days with him, right here at the hotel. 

You considered his offer, the idea appealing to you.

"Well, I have lectures in the morning and then I was meant to go to the movies with my friends, so...," you started to say but Cillian cut you off.

"What movie are you going to see?" Cillian asked casually, taking a bite of the apple he held in his hand. You bit into your cracker, chewing thoughtfully before responding.

"Oppenheimer," you admitted while blushing slightly and your answer caused Cillian to furrow his eyebrows. 

"That movie is totally overrated, you know," he then teased with a mischievous grin, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, I guess I was really just going to see it because of that hot guy who happens to play that dude who built that bomb back during the war and...," you began to joke just as Cillian started to tackle you in the most seductive way possible, pinning you beneath him playfully. 

"Uh, I see," he laughed, placing a playful kiss on your neck which, immediately, elicited a moan from you. "So, you are only interested in seeing the movie because I am in it...," he taunted, his voice husky and intoxicating.

"No," you giggled, swatting Cillian playfully. "I mean, it was a selling point, but it wasn't the only reason I wanted to see it," you explained, causing Cillian to chuckle.

"Relax, I'm only teasing," he assured you, his eyes gleaming mischievously before he kissed your neck tenderly.

"So, you really want me to stay?" you checked, your voice barely above a whisper. 

"Yes, incredibly so," Cillian replied sincerely, stroking your cheek softly.

"You're sure that you won't regret it?" you questioned, hesitant despite the electric chemistry between you.

"Absolutely not," Cillian confirmed, his voice thick with desire, and there was a vulnerability to his plea that struck a chord deep within you. You couldn't shake the feeling that this was precisely where you belonged—with Cillian, entangled in this forbidden web of passion and intrigue.

"Okay," you thus conceded softly, a slow smile spreading across your face. "I'll stay," you whispered, your breath fanning out against Cillian's bare chest before you picked up your phone and texted your best friend and roommate Lucy, telling her that you wouldn't be back until Friday. 

To be continued...

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[everythingne]

marketing ploy - ln4 ch7

Lando recovers. McLaren and Red Bull own up. Olivia and Lando decide the future, and give Oscar a heart attack while doing so. We get our happy ending.

piastri!oc x lando norris, bestfriends brother/fake dating

warnings/notes: hospital visits, mentioned injuries, loopiness from medication, pregnancy/sex jokes, media being bitches, lando going 'guys i gotta keep her' and doing the absolute MOST lmao, this is also TECHNICALLY the last chapter but im gonna write more for olivia and lando most def (also olivia will feature as oscars sister in other fics bc i love her)

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I haven't run in years.

I can feel the burn of the air in my lungs as I force them open, adrenaline making every rib shake as I suck in a breath and force it back out. My shoes slam into the floor of the paddocks, sending jolts up my legs as I whisk my bag over my shoulder and 'just go' as Christian had said. My mind is swimming with a thousand thoughts. What if he was seriously injured? He was able to walk, but he collapsed, was it his legs? Or his ribs? What if it's his back? Or his arms? How long will he be out? Is this a whole-season issue or just a few weeks?

Fuck, I cannot be thinking about this right now.

I sweep the room quickly to make sure I have everything, patting my pockets to check for my phone--which is nestled in the back left pocket of my jeans, before whirling around and out of the room.

Once I'm out of the paddocks and towards the exits, where it opens a bit more, the wind whisks into my skin and bites me as I use one hand to dig through the side pocket to find Lando's car keys. I can't steady my hands, even when I'm trying to control their shake, they just get worse. Whether it's fear or anxiety, I find it plain annoying as I struggle to get the small keychain out of my bag. Lando had driven me here from the hotel and shoved the keys in my bag since he didn't walk in with his bag and didn't want to lose the car keys.

Luckily, he had, because talking to anyone in this state would be a bust. I could feel my attitude snipping at my heart as people shouted my name at me. I couldn't stop. I had to find Lando. I knew what hospital he'd be taken to, I had to get there in one piece.

And it was going to be hard with the fucking media right here.

A few reporters try to follow me, but I'm able to slip through the crowds like water. Once I make it to the parking lot, a woman steps in front of me with her camera held high and I shout.

"Can you fucking move?!" And shove her to the side as I zip out of the lot. Fuck the standards, fucking being polite, I'll ask for forgiveness later. And apologize, probably.

Throwing my bag haphazardly into the car, I follow suit and slam the door. There's time here for me to scream, cry, and rage in semi-private, but I bite back the bubble in my throat, throwing my seatbelt on and turning on the car's engine. I wait no time to slam the car forward into first gear, pulling out of the lot with shaking hands. My hands slip with sweat as I try when I remember his McLaren's manual. Cursing, I force myself to revert back to the car I drove in high school as my hands dance across the car in perfected practice.

Thank god I still have that going for me.

The highway is empty, where I thought there'd be lines of traffic there are only a few sparse cars. I slam the car as hard as it can go, watching the ticking of the speedometer, 50... 60... 70... 80...

I look behind me, merging into the fast lane and gunning it even harder. The car sings, and I feel an odd rush of momentary euphoria.

I hit around 165kpm at some point. The car doesn't even shake, it seemingly glides along with my movements, I hear sirens, I don't know if they're for me but I'm not staying to find out. I press harder, merging to the off-ramp and taking it, barely registering what's around me as I slam on my brakes and slip into the traffic near the hospital.

It feels good to drive like that. Maybe I should get back into racing at some point.

Once the McLaren is parked in a back corner of the hospital lot, I grab my bag, rip myself out of the car, and slam it shut, and triple-check it's locked. I turn and book it into the hospital, trying to breathe steady enough to keep myself from losing my shit. It feels like I can't run fast enough, slipping into the hospital and around people who dodge my clearly rushed pace. I pause in front of a desk, panicked and out of breath when someone comes to my side.

"Hi, honey, who are you lookin' for?" A kind nurse says, her hand finding my arm to apply soothing pressure as she notices the fear in my movements. I thought I was hiding it better than I was, I guess. I take a slow breath and let the shake in my hands come in, no longer holding everything back.

"Lando Norris, he just came in with Formula One?" I ask and the woman nods. She asks to see my ID and I fish out my license and Red Bull card to verify my employment.

"Olivia!" A voice shouts as my items are handed back when I'm cleared, and Jon comes up to my side, pointing at my head.

"You still have your headset on." He says softly and I look him up and down, pointing at him.

"So do you," I say. We pause and fall into soft laughter as I pull the headset down to my neck. Jon takes me by the elbow further into the hospital, out of the view of some of the reporters who try to snap photos of us as they're shoved out by the security. I hadn't even seen them when I made my way inside. Through the winding halls, and down to a smaller section of the hospital, Jon brings me to the door to what I assume is Lando's room.

"He's fine." Jon starts with, which eases me immediately, "He's a bit banged up, they think he might have broken or bruised one of his ribs. He's really out of it, the painkillers made him super loopy. Just a forewarning, he's also been dipping in and out of consciousness so don't be alarmed. It's just the painkillers."

"Is his family here yet?" I ask, looking at the door, and Jon shakes his head no once I look back at him.

"They're driving at normal speeds, so no. I don't wanna know how you got here so fast." He steps forward and knocks. A nurse pops open the door and welcomes us inside, Jon stays back while I make my way to the bedside. Lando's wearing a tee shirt and some loose sports shorts, he looks exhausted. I can see bruising on his legs as I nurse tosses the blanket over him as if trying to hide it from me.

"Here!" She pulls up a chair happily and I thank her as I sit down on it, taking my bag off and setting it on the floor, dropping my headphones in. I sigh, taking Lando's hand and feeling his pulse as if the machine that literally tells me that is lying. It feels good to feel his heart thrum under my skin and I kiss his wrist where the pulsepoint is.

"My girlfrien's not g'nna like you doin' that." Lando tries to take his hand from me, Jon snorting in the doorway. I let go of him and laughed softly, leaning up to brush his hair back from his face, the longer curls sticking to his forehead. He's still got the lines from his helmet and balaclava, and I trace one with my finger as he gives me the nastiest stink eye I've ever seen him muster.

"Hi, Lando." I croon, and he whines, slowly rolling his head to the side.

"I have a girlfriend." He states, poking my hand to push it away from him and I send him an odd look. Jon walks over and I can see he's recording, which makes a small amused smile poke at my lips.

"Lando," I laugh softly and Lando whacks my hands away softly, fighting through the weariness of his pain medication to wave his arms.

"I have a girlfriend." He pouts, laying his hands still at his side. I just laugh again, and Lando shouts in his dreary state, "It's not funny! I do!"

"Shush, shh, Lando." I stand and push my chair back a bit as I stifle my laugh into the back of my hand.

Jon calls from where he stands, attempting to help me not laugh by giving me something new to focus on, "Who's your girlfriend, Lando?"

"Olivia. Oscar's sister, which he was actually not happy about at first but I convinced him I was cool--" Lando keeps rambling on until I lift my hand and cup his cheek, running my thumb under his eye as I speak softly.

"Lando, baby, I am your girlfriend." I put a hand on my chest, "I am Olivia."

Lando blinks, eyes settling on me before he gasps and leans up to grab my face and pull me down for a litter of soft pecks to my cheeks and face. I catch myself on the bed and laugh, catching his lips as he happily grins up at me. It's all doe eyes, lovesick smiles on his lips as he keeps his hands tight on my face.

"Hi, baby." He whispers, bringing me in for another kiss and I detach one of his hands so it can rest by his side. I slowly situate him against the blankets with the help of Jon, and sit a bit closer to the head of the bed so Lando can be close enough to me. He keeps one of his hands in mine and I slowly run my thumb along his knuckles.

"Well, Mr. Norris!" A piercing voice calls, a young woman stepping into the room with a bit of an excited flourish, "You are all set! Jon's gonna look over your scans, specifically for those bruised ribs. We're thinking it'll be about three or four weeks of healing, and he's gonna make that like--workout plan and stuff with your personal doctor."

"Ah, thank you, Doctor." Lando smiles, watching as the doctor hands Jon some papers to look over. She smiles at me, a hint of recognition in her eyes.

"Olivia, right?" She asks and I nod, shaking her outstretched hand.

"I'm glad you made it here, Lando was waiting for you a bit impatiently." She kept her happy smile, rocking from foot to foot, "Kept asking us where you were, or when you'd get here. You've got a good man on your hands here, sweetheart."

"I know." My heart is bursting, "He's shown me that over and over."

--

11 JULY, ENGLAND. ↴

oliviapiastri and landonorris have posted new stories!

mclaren has made a new post!

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Thank you once again to @ oliviapiastri for taking care of our #4 and providing the team with love and some pics while he was recovering! Lando is at home now, and our official statement on the accident and other situations this season has been posted on our website.

View the story: McLaren.uk/formula1/landoolivia...

user has turned off comments for this post!

mclaren.uk...

OFFICIAL STATEMENT ON SITUATIONS BETWEEN LANDO NORRIS AND OLIVIA PIASTRI THIS SEASON.

WRITTEN BY STEVE ATKINS (M), ON BEHALF OF ZAK BROWN (M), ANDREA STELLA (M), ALICE MCLOUGHLIN (ORBR), ASTRID MARINA (UNAFF.), ADA LUANNE (UNAFF.), CHRISTIAN HORNER (OBRB), AND HIMSELF.

On the 22nd of February this year, Lando Norris (MCLAREN F1 TEAM, DRIVER) and Olivia Piastri (ORACLE RED BULL, HEAD OF ANALYSIS) were pulled into the office of Christian Horner (ORACLE RED BULL, TEAM PRINCIPAL) in Bahrain. A deal was struck between both parties and their corresponding teams to create a fake dating scenario, capitalizing on the tensions between Oracle Red Bull Racing and the McLaren F1 Team to push ticket and merchandising sales. This fake relationship was planned to eventually leak in PR and Social Media Strategy, however, due to Norris' crash in Silverstone, the entire program has been canceled. The program was also discovered by F1 Stewards upon investigation after Olivia's reaction to the accident cemented rumors in the media of the two dating. Both the McLaren F1 Team and Oracle Red Bull are under investigation, and fines are yet to be announced.

Norris and Piastri chose not to be a part of this statement and can be expected to make their own statements in the coming weeks.

On July 9th of this year, Lando Norris was involved in an accident in the pitlane of Silverstone. Engineers have determined this was caused by an overheating of brake lines that didn't allow Norris to stop his vehicle along with worn tires. No fines have been placed at this moment.

Olivia Piastri will return to work with Red Bull remotely immediately and will be in-person by Zandvoort. Lando Norris will return to racing with McLaren by Zandvoort and will be replaced by reserve driver Bianca Bustamente for the time being. Neither Norris nor Piastri will be fined for involvement with the media stunt, or with the accident as of this moment.

20 JULY, LONDON ↴

There’s a sort of haze around me as I blink sleep from my eyes. A warm pressure on my left makes me look to the side. Lando’s face is squished against my chest, soft snores leaving his slightly parted lips and rolling across my bare skin that pokes out from under my tank top. I take a moment to take it all in, how we’d gotten here, how we were, and I can’t help but roll to pull him closer to me and curl him inside my arms as I pepper a few kisses to his hairline.

How did I ever not like him? He's a fucking saint.

Lando, a heavy sleeper until I started sleeping in the same bed, noticed immediately and grabbed my waist with groggy whines about how tired he was. I coax him back to sleep, kissing his hairline and gently massaging his back until the snores return and I smile at Lando’s sleeping face.

“Awake yet?” Oscar calls from the door, and I wave. He laughs under his breath, waving me over, and it takes a bit of grace to detach myself from Lando. Once I do, I grab one of the spare throw blankets off the floor from where Lando had kicked it and slip over to where Oscar is standing by the door as I wrap it around me to keep out the morning chill.

“He’s exhausted. I think all the stress of the season is catching up on him.” I rub sleep from my face, and Oscar nods, handing me a piece of toast like a peace offering. I take it and tilt my head at him.

“They’re fining McLaren and Red Bull a lot for this stunt. It just came out.” Oscar hums, “said it’s a breach of contract and a risk for documents to be shared amongst the teams…”

My heart jumps to my throat, and I look at Lando’s sleeping form as he rolls into where my fading body heat is still in the blankets, “they want us to split?”

“Well. Lando’s contract ends with McLaren this year.” Oscar paused to take a sip of his coffee before leaning in to whisper, “and you didn’t hear it from me, but Christian has been looking at grabbing him for a few years now.”

“Is Checo moving?” I ask because I know Max wouldn’t leave Red Bull unless we forced him out by dragging him by his ankles.

“I dunno.” Oscar grins, stepping back and whacking my shoulder, “but you can date within your garage, so.”

With that, he walks away and I turn back to Lando as he starts to stir. I lean on the doorframe and watch as he blearily blinks his eyes open, hands searching for me in the covers until he lifts his head to see me off in the doorway.

“C’mere.” he croaks, and I smile, pushing off the doorframe and walking over to sit on the edge of the bed as he wraps his arms around my waist and rests his head on my thighs.

I can’t imagine him in navy. But it might look good on him.

25TH JULY, LONDON ↴

“is Max positive?” Lando pokes his head into the kitchen doorway, looking at the island where I’m staring at my laptop. I look up and shrug, sending an email back to Christian about the fines and the media being on his ass for the whole stunt.

“Kylie said it’ll be here in five minutes,” I reply, refreshing my email as if that will make the minutes suddenly not matter and for the email to pop up. Apparently, Max had gotten sick right before the next race. While I was home with Lando to make sure he wasn’t being strenuous and to keep media off my back until everything died down, they had to do a COVID test on Max and isolate him just in case.

“It would suck if he's out for his home race this year." Lando wanders into the kitchen and pulls up a stool next to me as he sets his phone down on the counter. He’s been living in Oscar and my apartment for the past few days, just until next week when he goes back to McLaren's training center for a bit to do a lot of physical therapy before getting in the car next weekend for Zandvoort.

Oscar calls my phone, and I stand up, telling Lando to keep checking my email as I make my way over to the other side of the kitchen to grab my phone.

“Yes, bitch?” I say into the phone and Oscar laughs at my sharp tone.

“Just checking in on Lando for Zak,” Oscar says and I look behind me and my boyfriend—like, actual boyfriend now, and smile.

“He’s been fine, ribs are still a little sore. I had him doing cardio earlier and he was faring pretty well so I—I think Jon said he can go back to training a bit earlier. He’s still coming back in Zandvoort though.” I hum, “how’s Bia faring?”

“She’s having the time of her life. I gotta start bringing her around more. You guys really would be an unstoppable duo.” Oscar laughs, “But good, Jon is off today so I’ll let Zak know to reach out to him and ask.”

“Ollie!” Lando whines and I turn.

“Yess?” I draw out as I walk to his side.

“It's negative.”

“Oh, thank fucking god.” I breathe, “That makes everything a lot easier for me.”

Oscar is quiet on the line for a few moments before asking in a small voice, “What’s negative?”

“Max’s COVID test. He’s just got the flu.” I say without thinking much of my brother's hesitance before he lets out a soft laugh.

“I thought you took a pregnancy test or something, I was about to start judging the type of cardio you’ve been doing,” Oscar says and I shout,

“Dude!”

“I feel like that’s a reasonable thing to be worried about!”

“Oh my god, we’ve only been actually dating dating for like two weeks!” I groan and Lando sends me a confused look, so I pop Oscar onto speakerphone.

“It only takes like—five minutes to make a kid!”

“Hello?!” Lando shouts and I sink to the floor in a fit of laughter, trying to bite back the volume of my laughter before Lando shouts, "Do you think I fucked your sister?!"

"No! Stop! Stop talking Lando!" Oscar shouts over the phone and now I'm hysterical on the floor in tears as Lando tries to backtrack and Oscar keeps shouting for him to just-- "Shut the fuck up, Lando!"

"Both are you are going to kill me, I'm losing it." I wheeze from where I'm now lying on the floor, Lando laughing alongside me as Oscar groans.

"First the house, now this?" He says and Lando makes some noise in the back of his throat as I manage to calm myself down enough to stand.

"What about a house?" I wipe under my eyes, leaning my head on Lando's shoulder as his arm wraps around my shoulder and he kisses my head, his fingers poking at my side and making me squirm as I push him away with a laugh.

"Nothing, love." Lando sighs, "Remember when they gave me those painkillers that made me super loopy the first night, and Oscar was watching over me?"

I nod, remembering how halfway through my grocery trip he had to call me because Lando was so loopy he thought that I was gone forever. And he had literally cried tears of joy when I answered Oscar's phone call.

"Well, I kinda... oh my god this is so embarrassing." Lando sighs and Oscar tells him he now has to tell the story and Lando hides his face in my hair as he recounts, "I was looking at apartments in London for us."

"Stop, oh my god." I whine, turning to Lando so I can kiss his cheeks and his forehead, pulling him down when he tries to move back so I can't, "That's so cute."

"No, it's embarrassing." He grumbles and I laugh, pulling him closer and kissing along his jaw and then the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

"I wouldn't mind that," I murmur to him and his eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, his hands find my waist and he presses a kiss to my lips.

"Ew, I don't like that I can hear him kiss you over the phone." Oscar groans, "I'm hanging up now, don't do anything too strenuous."

"Fuck you, Oscar!" I laugh as the call hangs up, Lando keeping his arms firmly around my waist. We sit in silence for a few moments before his hand ghosts up the side of my neck to take my jaw in his palm, thumb hooking on my chin to pull me down to look at him.

"Would you seriously not mind?" He asks softly and I grin, leaning over to pop a quick kiss on his lips.

"Getting to have you with me every day?" I bring our foreheads together, his curls against my own as his hands find my waist to hold, my hands resting on his shoulders as I grin and flutter my eyes closed, "That's paradise."

"I'll literally buy one right now, don't even test me." He groans, pulling me closer and I laugh.

"Let's get Zandvoort out of the way first, yeah?"

JULY 28TH, TWITTER ↴

AUGUST 27TH, THE NETHERLANDS ↴

Luckily for me, I made it into the paddocks long before any media people. Max welcomes me with a slap on the back as I welcome him to his home race, and then I'm greeted by the Ferrari drivers once again as Checo laughs at my bewildered expression.

"I'm gonna tell the Tifosi on you both." I huff, but let both Charles and Carlos wrap me in tight hugs of congratulations as we laugh. Once the two are carted off to go do their actual jobs, I get settled in my chair and glance down at my desk before laughing.

A vase of freshly cut flowers and a little cup of coffee sits there, waiting for me, and I turn to look at Max who just grins.

"He's determined." Is all Max says before slipping away as he's called over to get dressed. I laugh and send Lando a quick thank you message, before taking a sip of the perfectly made coffee and settling down to finally get back into gear.

"Welcome back," A voice chimes and I glance up to see Christian in the doorway. I offer him a small smile and a nod.

"Good to be here." Is all I say in reply.

-

Lando and Max seriously just want to kill each other in these cars. Max takes the win at his home race by some insignificantly small number, they had to literally watch multiple playbacks to see who crossed first, which means Lando is still in good running for World Champion. Luckily, somehow a mix of car issues and the pure energy from Oscar, Charles, Checo, and Carlos managed to keep Max in P2 for most races, leveling out the chances for Lando to recover his lost points.

As soon as most drivers have returned to their paddocks, I'm mid-packing up when I'm ushered off by Logan, who finished P6. He quite literally hoists me off my feet and carries me into the crowd for the podium. A few other drivers lag back, and I look over to Oscar, who'd finished P4 behind Charles.

"Where's Lando?!" Logan shouts over my head at Oscar, who points, and then leans over to me.

"Here's that kiss they promised you'd have to do," He shouts in my ear and I laugh as the two lift me so I can be partially over the barrier holding back the audience from the racers. I wave Lando down and he laughs, slipping away from a reporter as he finishes an interview. Biting off his glove as he walks over, he drops it into his helmet and then grabs my jaw with that now gloveless hand, pulling me into his lips for a quick peck. I don't let him leave though, grabbing his jaw and pulling him back in for a few more deeper kisses.

Oscar cheers and Logan laughs before Lando secures one arm around me to pull me over the barrier. Logan and Oscar immediately hop over after me.

There's warmth in my chest as Lando keeps his hand on my lower back, pulling me through the crowd of drivers and up to where Max and Charles stand. A giddy excitement thrums across my skin.

I could do this forever.

--

SEPTEMBER 3RD, INSTAGRAM ↴

oliviapiastri made a new post!

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, charlesleclerc, and 876k others...

oliviapiastri: 6 months <3

charlesleclerc: damn y'all move fast

oscarpiastri: DUDE THIS IS THE FIRST TIME WE ARENT LIVING TOGETHER IN OUR WHOLE LIVES. CHEERS!

maxverstappen: cheers!! looks lovely

user1: THEY LIVE TOGETHER?

alexalbon: DUDE ITS BEEN SIX MONTHS??

⤷ landonorris: I KNOW??

landonorris: omg i can post this publically now

landonorris: i LOVE YOU OLIVIA<333

user2: lando going bat shit in these comments is so real

landonorris: I LOVE U SM DARLING

⤷ oscarpiastri: i liked it better before the FIA made them announce it. i wanna go back in time to before that happened.

⤷ oliviapiastri: get me a tardis then

⤷ bbcdoctorwho: we can make that work ...

⤷ oliviapiastri: HELLO?

user4: dying dead gone deceased i love them

landonorris posted a new story!

#f1 fanfic #ln4 fic #f1 smau #f1 fic #lando norris au #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x oc #oscar piastri fic

[ist4rgirlo]

────────── 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐜.𝐟

ONE SHOT !

they did say that when two people are meant to be together, they will eventually find a way back to each other. however, are you ready to open your heart again to a person who has broken it in the past?

SEQUEL TO : you’re losing me

───────────────────────────

“They say that your first love never dies. You can put out the flame but not the fire”

It was true, for me atleast. I’d be lying if I said that I don’t love Conrad, because I do, I still do — no matter how much he had hurt me before, a piece of my heart is still beating for him.

Time, curious time

Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

Were there clues I didn't see?

And isn't it just so pretty to think

It wasn’t easy to move on, he made me feel things — things that I never felt before. He was different, he just was.

For two years, I had done my best to put the past behind me, but still, I would often find myself thinking of Conrad and wondering what could have been.

Until one day, when an unexpected text message popped up on my phone. It was from Conrad, of all people. Confused but curious, I opened the message. The only thing that it said was 'Are you free today?’ Could he possibly still care about me, after all this time?

A string that pulled me

Out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar

Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire

Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons

One single thread of gold tied me to you

I thought back to the words we had said to each other; the heartache that had been so painful that it had taken so long for me to move on. But still, here he was, wanting to see me. Was I willing to open my heart up to someone who had broken it so badly in the past?

───────────────────────────

Conrad asked me if we could meet at the beach near Cousins. I dont know why why I said yes, maybe I wanted closure — maybe I wanted to hear his side.

I stood on the dock, the ocean air getting caught in my hair. Although the sun was out and the sky a brilliant blue,

I couldn't bring myself to take in the beauty of the day. I was too consumed with my thoughts, instead glancing around, distracted and flustered.

I saw Conrad — standing at the end of the shore, a better vision than the view of the ocean I had become accustomed to.

I swallowed hard as I stared into his eyes - the same eyes that had shattered my heart months ago. He looked different. Older, strong, different from the man I had said goodbye to all those months ago.

But there he was, standing in front of me, arms crossed — pain pierced through me like a hot knife as I remembered fond memories I shared with him. Memories that were now tarnished by the hurt he had caused me.

I took a deep breathe and stepped forward — walking towards him.

“Hey Conrad,” I said tentatively.

He looked up with surprise, then quickly looked away. “Hey y/n,” he muttered.

“It’s been so long huh?” Conrad asked. I looked at him before answering “Yeah, It has. I just want to get to the point already. Why did you want to see me?” I asked him.

His eyes met mine, filled with regret and longing. "I never stopped thinking about you," he confessed, his voice laced with raw emotion.

I listened, my heart warring between the past and the present. Memories flooded my mind - stolen kisses, whispered promises, and the crushing pain of betrayal. And yet, beneath it all, the flicker of what once was remained.

"You broke me," I replied, my voice steadying.

Conrad reached out to gently touch my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine. "Please, Y/n," he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. "What I did was fucked up, you didn’t deserve that — you didn’t deserve to be ignored, I-I should’ve paid more attention to you”

"I messed up, I admit it. I was a fool to let you go. I've regretted it every single day, and I wish I could turn back time and change things." He said, taking a step closer.

I blinked back tears, trying to resist the pull I felt towards him. "Conrad, it's not that easy. You hurt me so deeply, and I've spent so long trying to heal." I said, backing away from him.

"I know," he murmured, his voice cracked with emotion. "But I'm here now, and all I want is a chance to make things right, to prove to you that I've changed. I want to be better for you.”

His words tugged at my heartstrings, and I felt a glimmer of hope. Could we really find a way back to each other? Was it possible to rebuild what had been broken?

Time, wondrous time

Gave me the blues and then purple pink skies

And it's cool, baby, with me

The sound of crashing waves filled the silence between us, punctuating the weight of the moment. I looked into Conrad's eyes, searching for sincerity, I’m scared — scared of risking again. Scared of getting hurt again.

“I-I don’t know, Conn-“ I said looking down, he walked closer — his hands reaching for mine.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything, just.. just let me love you. Let me be a better man for you.” he paused “I’ll wait for you”

And isn't it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

I looked up at him, I saw the glint in his eyes — he was genuine, his voice sounded hopeful — his eyes filled with love. It wouldn’t hurt if I tried again right? maybe now, it’ll be right.

#Spotify #tsitp #tsitp conrad #conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher fic #conrad fisher x reader #the summer i turned pretty #tsitp imagine #tsitp fic #tsitp fanfic #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher angst #abtconrad fics #taylor swift

[fawnandshadows]

Guilty as Sin?

For @elriel-month and the "New Beginnings" prompt

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 7.4k

AO3

“Have you met your new neighbor yet?” Cassian’s staticky voice crackled in Azriel’s ear, his phone held in place by his shoulder and ear as he furiously searched his apartment for his keys. 

“Not yet, just saw the back of her head once when she was closing her door.” Azriel said as he toppled the couch cushions and ran his fingers through the deep crevice on the side. “Where the fuck are my keys?” He muttered, his fingers trailing over long forgotten crumbs that had slid down the side of the cushion. “Were you eating Doritos last time you were here?”

“Uh,” Cassian’s voice caught in his throat. “What happens if I say yes?”

Azriel rolled his eyes and said, “Nothing other than supergluing a trash bag to you as a bib next time you’re over.” 

“Wasn’t me, man. Must’ve been Rhysie.” Cassian brushed him off. 

Azriel barely mustered a “hmmmm” in acknowledgment as he lowered himself to the ground to check underneath the couch, hoping to see the metallic glint of his keys and only seeing dust bunnies. 

“Anyway,” Cassian said in his ear, cutting out for a second before coming back in full volume. Since he had perpetual shitty service, Cassian felt the need to make up for it with shouting. “Your hot new neighbor, do you think you could give her my phone number? She was definitely making eyes at me last time I was there.” 

“Was she?” Azriel asked, barely paying attention as he hunted for his keys. He pushed himself off of the floor, his gaze scanning the open space. Where the hell had he put them? He came home dead tired from a shift last night and he remembered fumbling with them out in the hall — there had been a crash from his neighbors apartment that had distracted him, his head already pounding from the drinks he had with Cassian, and he remembered the sound of his keys hitting the ground — did he leave his keys in the hall?

“Are you listening to me?” Cassian asked, his voice sounding far away as Azriel headed towards his door, his duffle bag already there and waiting for him. 

“Of course,” Azriel said, opening the door and spotting his keys in a lump on the floor. “You want me to set you up with my hot neighbor.” He bent down, his fingers looping around his keys as he heard a high-pitched “Oh!” from across the hall. 

Azriel’s entire body stilled as he turned his head and saw the most beautiful wide brown eyes and flushed pink cheeks. 

He blinked at her. No wonder Cassian wanted him to give her his number. Fat-fucking-chance. 

“Hellloo?” Cassian asked in his ear like he was trying to wave his head in front of Azriel’s face. 

Azriel just hung up on him. 

“Sorry about that,” Azriel said, coming to his full height and shoving his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. “I – My friend – He saw you the other day and, um, he has a crush.” 

Those brown eyes blinked at him and kicking himself seemed like too kind a punishment. 

 He was two seconds away from blurting out “I can’t blame him” just to end the agony of silence, but his new neighbor must have had a merciful soul because she beat him to it. 

“I just wanted to introduce myself,” She said in the sweetest voice Azriel had ever heard and it wasn’t until then that he noticed she was holding out a pie. “Since I’ve been making so much racket I wanted to apologize.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Azriel said, his hand surprisingly steady as he reached for her peace-offering. “I’m not home enough to be bothered by it.” 

“Oh.” She said, looking down at her feet, her golden brown hair sweeping down around her. 

“I just mean that there’s nothing to apologize for,” Azriel rushed out, her eyes peering up at him and his heart started fucking racing. “I work down at the local fire station, so I’m used to chaos.” 

She bit her lip, her eyes dropping down to his muscled arms for a moment as she asked, “You’re a firefighter?” 

“Yeah,” Azriel said, sticking out his hand. “I’m Azriel.” 

“Elain,” She replied with a soft smile and placed her small hand in his. “It’s nice to meet you,” Azriel never wanted to let go. Her eyes flicked to the duffle bag on the floor behind him. “I don’t want to keep you.” She started to pull her hand away. 

“No worries,” Azriel said quickly. “I was just going to meet up with some friends at the gym. Do you want to come in?” Azriel nodded to his apartment behind him. “I make espresso that goes great with pie.”

Elain took her hand back. 

“Thank you for the offer,” Elain said with a small smile, taking a step back and reaching for the door knob to her apartment. Azriel felt his body screaming in response as she moved farther away from him. His eyes taking in the purple sundress she was wearing. “But my boyfriend is coming over soon.” 

Azriel’s body steeled at the words. Boyfriend?

“Boyfriend?” Azriel asked out loud and Elain nodded her head. 

“He’s coming over to see my new place.” 

“He didn’t help you with the move?” Azriel already hated him. For probably more reasons that he didn’t want to think about, but what loser didn’t help his girlfriend with a move? Did she move in all by herself? Now that he thought about it, other than a few people from a moving company he didn’t see anyone else moving her in.

She shook her head. 

“He was busy.” Elain said simply and Azriel hoped he kept his glower off of his face. 

“Well, if you need any help you can always knock on my door.” Azriel offered, forcing a smile and he was delighted when she gave him one in return.    

“Thank you,” Elain said, opening her door, and almost shutting it before she poked her head out. “And I love espresso.” 

Azriel stood in the hallway, staring at her door and holding the pie and wondering what the hell just happened. 

— — — — — 

“No, no, no,  you don’t understand, he was really pretty.” Elain said to her sister over the phone as she rushed around her apartment. 

“How pretty?” Feyre asked, her voice crackling from the poor cell service in Elain’s new building. 

“I-forgot-about-Graysen-pretty.” Elain said, adjusting the bouquet of spring flowers on her coffee table. Residual guilt gnawing at her bones. Her boyfriend of two years. She forgot about her boyfriend of two years because of a pretty face. And muscles. 

Something clattered on over the phone and Elain knew that her sister dropped a paint brush. 

“Oh my God.” Feyre said, stunned.

“I know!” Elain cried, repositioning the silverware for the tenth time. 

“Can you send me a picture?” Feyre asked. 

“Well, I don’t have one, but just imagine the most good looking man you can think of and then like double that. And imagine him as a firefighter.” Elain said and rushed across the apartment to stir her bolognese sauce. 

One interaction with Azriel and she was buzzing around her apartment not knowing what to do.

“I need to throw you a housewarming party just to see him.” Feyre said, laughing over the phone. 

“This isn’t funny!” Elain pouted, stirring her sauce. “I almost went in for espresso.” 

“You hate espresso.” Feyre said, and even though Elain couldn’t see her she knew her sister was smiling. 

“I know.” Elain replied with a sinking feeling and stifled a sigh. 

She couldn’t be friends with Azriel. He was too pretty. And by all accounts he was nice. She got the sense that he actually would help her if she needed it. That he wasn’t just saying that to be polite. 

For some reason she wanted to stomp her foot like a child. She had to practically beg Graysen to see her new place. 

“What are you going to do?” Feyre asked. 

“Nothing.” Elain said abruptly. 

“Elain,” Feyre said gently. “You called me just to talk about how pretty your neighbor is.” There was so much unspoken in Feyre’s voice that Elain felt the weight of it on her shoulders. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Elain said, forcing away the rush of emotions. “I’m with Graysen.” 

There was a moment of silence over the phone. 

“It’s not a crime that you find another man attractive, Elain.” Feyre said and Elain felt herself nodding along. 

“I know.” 

A knock sounded from the door. 

“I have to go, Graysen is here. I’ll talk to you later.” 

“Ok-love-you-bye!” Feyre rushed out before Elain hung up. 

— — — — — 

“I can’t believe you followed me home.” Azriel said, fishing around in his duffle bag to pull out his keys. 

The thump of Cassian bouncing a basketball beat steadily behind his back as Azriel unlocked his door. 

“I didn’t follow you home,” Cassian said and Azriel shot him a bland look over his shoulder. “We’re hanging out, it’s what friends do.” 

“And your being here has nothing to do with Elain?” Azriel asked, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at Cassian who had begun to spin the basketball on his index finger. 

“Of course not, I—”

The ball slipped from Cassian’s finger and flew across the hall, smashing against Elain’s door. How the ball managed to move perpendicularly through the air, Azriel never knew.

Half of Azriel wanted to rush into his apartment and slam the door to leave Cassian to his own humiliation, but the sound of a male voice behind Elain’s door made Azriel stay in place. 

Two seconds later they watched as the door swung open to reveal someone Azriel could only assume was The Boyfriend standing there with Elain peering out at them behind his shoulder. 

The Boyfriend…did not look happy as he took in Azriel and Cassian standing in the hallway. 

“Hi Azriel,” Elain said with a polite smile as she curiously looked at him. The eyes of The Boyfriend snapped to her and narrowed. “Is this yours?” She went to reach for the stray basketball, but The Boyfriend’s hands shot out and grabbed it first. 

“You should be more careful next time.” He said, holding the ball out to Azriel, his eyes weary and smile plastic as he sized Azriel up. 

“My bad,” Cassian said with a charming grin as he took the ball that Graysen was holding out after it became obvious that Azriel wasn’t going to. “Azriel has better control over his balls than I do,”  Cassian took a step back and slapped Azriel on the back, but when no one laughed he stuck his hand out toward Elain. “Cassian. Nice to meet you.” 

“Elain.” She replied kindly, her eyes flickering to Azriel as she accepted Cassian’s outstretched hand.

“I was on the phone with him this morning.” Azriel said and nodded towards Cassian, his lips twitching as Elain’s eyes widened. 

Everyone noticed the way her cheeks flushed and the way Cassian smiled hungrily. 

Elain sheepishly drew her hand back as she asked, “Are you a firefighter as well?” Her eyes dipped to his t-shirt which boasted the numbers of the local fire station. 

“You know it,” Cassian’s grin widened. “Someone’s got to rescue all those kitties trapped in trees.” 

Elain laughed at that, but The Boyfriend bristled. 

“We should get back to lunch.” The Boyfriend said with false cheer. 

“Of course,” Elain said, blinking. “It was nice to see you both.” She nodded at Azriel and Cassian. 

“I’m having some friends over next week,” Azriel rushed out as Elain was turning away. Her wide brown eyes curious as she looked at him over her shoulder. “Saturday. You should stop by.” 

“I’d love to —”

“We have plans.” The Boyfriend cut her off, and Azriel couldn’t stop himself from glaring at him. 

Elain’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she said, “But I asked if you wanted to get brunch and you mentioned a business lunch?” 

Azriel’s jaw hurt as he ground his teeth together. 

“We can head over once that’s wrapped up.” The Boyfriend said, his smile not budging from his lips. 

“Elain can come whenever she wants.” Azriel said, his voice not exactly dark, but full of meaning. Enough meaning that Elain’s cheeks turned ripened pink and The Boyfriend outright glared at him. 

Azriel didn’t back down from his stare, keeping his face completely neutral even though he knew Cassian was wearing a shit-eating grin next to him. 

“That’s very kind of you,” Elain muttered, tugging on her boyfriend's arm. “I’ll see you later?” She asked hesitantly, and Azriel nodded in confirmation. 

“It was nice meeting you!” Cassian called out as Elain was closing the door, but they managed to see the small smile on her lips before they were shut out. 

Azriel and Cassian stood in the hallway, Azriel looking at the door intensely while Cassian’s eyes flitted between the door and his friend. 

“Fuck that guy, right?” Cassian said. 

“Yeah,” Azriel nodded. “Fuck that guy.”

— — — — — — 

“And you haven’t seen him, right?” Graysen asked over the phone, his voice suspicious and casual in a way that made Elain roll her eyes. 

“Not even in passing.” Elain said, flipping over her pancakes. For some reason she was craving something sweet as soon as she woke up — she didn’t even bother changing out of Graysen’s old Wharton’s shirt and her boy shorts she slept in.  

“Good.” Graysen said, his relief evident over the phone. 

“I don’t know why you hate him so much.” Elain muttered, moving her pancakes off of the heat and getting ready to add more batter to the hot pan. 

“He was coming onto you right there in the hallway, right in front of me, and you weren’t exactly telling him to back off.” Graysen said irritably. 

“You’re exaggerating.” Elain said, but the creeping, gnawing feeling of guilt wormed its way underneath her skin. She might be able to lie to Graysen, but she couldn’t lie to herself. And the fact that she could lie to Graysen sent alarm bells blaring in her mind. 

“Yeah, well, don’t go over there on Saturday without me.” Graysen said in a way that made Elain bristle. 

“You don’t even know what time your lunch will be over,” Elain said, her voice hitting an unbecoming whine. “And I’m free all day, so why wouldn’t I go over?” 

“Because he wants to fuck you, Elain.” 

“He does not!” Elain roared over the phone, her cheeks burning as she angrily flipped her pancakes. “And besides, there will be lots of people over there so it’s not like we’ll be alone. And after years of dating I’ve given you zero reasons not to trust me.” 

Graysen sighed into her ear. 

“I’m sorry,” He apologized and Elain felt slightly mollified. “I just don’t like that he lives across from you.” 

“You have nothing to worry about.” Elain said in resignation, but she wondered if she had the willpower to push Azriel away if he made a move on her. 

“I know.” Graysen said, but Elain could tell he didn’t quite believe the words. 

She opened her mouth to speak, but a knock sounded from the door. 

“I should go,” Elain said, taking the pancakes off a little too soon so they wouldn’t burn. “My breakfast is ready.” She didn’t tell Graysen about the knock, having a sneaking suspicion it was Azriel on the opposite side of the door. 

“Enjoy, baby.” 

“Thanks.” Elain said, hanging up before her guilt could consume her. 

She rushed across the hardwood floor, completely forgetting the fact that she was in her underwear, and opened the door a crack to see Azriel on the opposite side of the door. 

“Hi.” Elain said breathlessly, taking in his wet hair and clean scent and gray sweatpants. His white t-shirt clung to his torso in a way Elain shouldn’t have noticed. 

“Hey,” Azriel said in a low voice, his face touched with kindness. “I was wondering if I could borrow some sugar?” He held out an empty measuring up. 

“Oh,” Elain said in surprise. “Of course, come in.” She opened the door wider and stepped aside. 

As soon as Azriel clocked what she was wearing his eyes darkened and he visibly swallowed. 

“Sorry to interrupt.” Azriel said, his voice slightly scratchy.

Elain shook her head, her golden curls moving with her head, and said, “You’re not interrupting. I’m just making some breakfast…I always make too much…do you want some?” She nodded to the plate of towering pancakes. 

“If you don’t mind.” Azriel said, a small smile winding on his lips. 

“Of course not,” Elain said, gliding back to the kitchen in a rush. “Please have a seat.” She motioned towards the table without looking at it. 

She piled four pancakes on top of each other with little pads of butter between them and drizzled a generous amount of maple syrup on top before placing it in front of Azriel. 

“Coffee?” She asked and as soon as Azriel nodded his head, she filled up a mug and got out the half-and-half and set it down on the table.

“Did I forget anything?” Elain asked, looking around. “Oh! Do you like blueberries?” She was about to take off again when Azriel’s warm hand clasped around her wrist. 

“Elain,” He said gently and Elain felt herself melt. His hazel eyes were amused and kind as they captured her attention. “I don’t mind, but you might want to put some pants on.” His eyes flickered down to her legs before he forcefully pulled them away. 

“Oh,” Her eyes widened. “Oh! I’m so sorry! Excuse me!” Elain scampered off to grab the first article of clothing she could find - her well loved plaid pajama shorts. “Please just ignore the last three minutes!” 

Her cheeks were pink as she made her way back into the common area, but even though she should be dying of humiliation since she was walking around pantless in front of someone she’d talked to for a collective ten minutes — she had a feeling this story would be re-told with charm rather than embarrassment. 

“You’re not eating,” She stated when she returned to the table, her brows coming together. “Is something wrong?” 

“I’m just waiting for you.” Azriel said with an easy grin. 

Her heart stopped as if it understood his words and didn’t quite believe it. 

He was waiting for her. How many times had she made a meal for Graysen and he just started without her? 

“I’m sorry,” Elain muttered, averting her eyes. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” She quickly gathered her own pancakes and coffee and sat next to Azriel — well adjacent to Azriel since she sat at the head of the table and Azriel was directly to her right. 

“Don’t apologize,” Azriel said, leaning forward to place a warm hand on her bare knee. “I’m just trying to be polite.” 

Her eyes locked on his brown hand on her pale thigh. Little scars scattered the length of his skin to create something beautiful, but she was taken by the mere size of his hand and the way it emitted warmth. 

“Sorry.” Azriel quickly took his hand back as if she burned him. “I know they can freak people out.” His cheeks were red as he cut into the fluffy pancakes with his fork, little puffs of steam floated through the air as he took a bite. “Delicious pancakes, thank you.” Azriel said as he dug back into his breakfast. 

“No,” Elain said belatedly and Azriel looked at her in confusion. “I was thinking about how large your hands are,” She held up her own hand, palm facing him and wiggling her fingers. “My sisters always made fun of how small my hands are. See?” 

Azriel blinked at her. 

“Your hands are perfect.” Azriel declared and Elain blushed. 

“Well, so are yours, but that doesn’t mean mine aren’t freakishly small.” 

Azriel snorted at her. 

“They’re not freakishly small, they’re just…small.” Azriel said, smiling and Elain rolled her eyes in affection. 

“Let me see yours.” She motioned for him to lift his hand up and he slowly, almost sheepishly, exposed his scarred and calloused palm to her. Elain laid her palm directly against his, indulging in the feel of his hand. The warmth. The strength. She tried to not think about his hands gripping her hips, or his fingers writing on her body. She really tried not to think about that. 

“Hmmm.” Elain hummed as she took in the size difference of their hands. Her fingers barely touching his and his palm noticeably larger than hers. “I can’t tell if my hand is freakishly small or if yours is freakishly big.” She half-heartedly joked. 

“I don’t know, I think they fit pretty perfectly together.” Azriel said almost thickly, and Elain tore her gaze away from their hands to see him intensely staring at her. 

“Me too,” Elain said, slowly — begrudgingly — taking her hand back and using it to pick up her fork to stop herself from reaching for him again. “I can reach the bottom of the Pringles can and you can open any jar. We’re a match made in heaven.” 

Azriel slowly smiled at her. 

“I’d have to agree.” He turned back to his breakfast, smiling into his next bite. 

Conversation flowed easily after that. They talked about how Elain worked with a local florist and would love to open up her own shop one day and how she’d also worked on her social media brand online, which explained her odd working hours. Azriel talked about how he had known Cassian since they were children and that she’d meet their other friend Rhysand on Saturday — and he even mentioned the fact that Rhysand convinced his family to take Azriel and Cassian in at a young age and how the three of them were closer than brothers. Elain mentioned her two sisters, whom she loved more than life itself, so Azriel extended them an invitation to his gathering on Saturday which caused Elain’s world to instantly brighten. 

“Thank you again,” Elain said as they stood by her door hours later, her hands clasped behind her back as she peered up at Azriel. “I’m sure my sisters are going to be thrilled. We never get to do anything together anymore.” 

Azriel’s dark brows pulled together. 

“Why’s that?” He asked. 

“Graysen doesn’t really like them,” Elain explained and Azriel couldn’t stop the scowl on his face. “Anyway,” Elain pushed on before he could comment. “Thanks again for stopping by.” 

Azriel raised a brow at her and said, “I ate most of your breakfast and you’re thanking me?” It’s true. Azriel went back for seconds. And thirds. But Elain smiled as she watched him enjoy her food. 

“You saved me from leftovers. I have bad habits when it comes to breakfast food. I love it too much.” 

“Yeah,” Azriel said, leaning in conspiratorially, “I’m like that with baked goods.” 

Elain grinned widely at him. 

“Those are my specialty…I’ll have to bring something on Saturday.” She bit her lip to try and stifle her smile. 

“I can’t wait.” Azriel said, grinning. 

They stood there grinning at each other, neither one of them moving to open the door. Both of them ignoring the still-empty measuring cup that Azriel had brought over. 

“I meant what I said the other day,” Azriel said, tilting his head at her. “You can come over to my place any time.” 

“I am curious to see what it looks like.” Elain admitted. 

“You can come over now. I —” An alarm bursted through the air, coming from the phone tucked inside of his back pocket. Azriel sighed, his body deflating. “My shift starts in 40 minutes.” 

Elain couldn’t stop the wave of disappointment that swam through her. 

“Some other time than.” She mumbled. 

“Some other time,” Azriel agreed and pressed his lips into her soft, plump cheek before he could stop himself. “I’ll see you later, Elain.” He said, his breath tickling her overly-sensitive skin. 

“Bye.” Elain said breathlessly, watching him leave with wide eyes. 

She swayed for a moment in place before she fell against the door. 

— — — — 

“Are you sure about this?” Feyre asked, using her nail to clean up her lipstick in the mirror. 

Elain’s entire bathroom was covered in beauty products as she and her sisters got ready to go over to Azriel’s place. Even though it was casual and there was no need for them to spend so much time on hair and make up…but the Archeron sisters liked to look good, and they liked getting ready together. Some of Elain’s most favorite memories involved them getting ready together, whether it was for prom or just to go shopping. It was when they felt the most like sisters. 

“Of course.” Elain said, careful not to look at Feyre or Nesta because they could easily see right through her. 

“Twenty bucks says Elain gets laid by the hot fireman by the end of the week.” Nesta said slyly, carefully coating her eyelashes in mascara. The black striking against her blue eyes. It took everything in Elain not to hip check her. 

“Stop it!” Elain cried, but fighting a smile as she did it. 

“How many times have you done it in your head?” Feyre asked with a cat-like grin as she fluffed her golden brown hair. 

Elain pursed her lips together, not willing to give either of them the satisfaction of knowing that Elain had pictured her and Azriel together in vivid, graphic detail. She simply ignored them and reached for her favorite perfume. 

“A-ha!” Nesta exclaimed, sticking the mascara wand out at her sister. “That’s sex perfume!” 

“It is not!” Elain laughed as she sprayed her neck. And hair. And wrists. “I just felt like this one today.” She brushed off the fact that it was her most seductive scent. 

“Mmhmm,” Feyre sounded, not hiding her smile. “And then explain the sundress?” 

“And the fuck-me-heels?” Nesta added on. 

Her sisters smiled knowingly, almost smugly, at her. 

Elain opened her mouth and closed it again, feeling oddly like a fish. 

“I just want to look nice, is that a crime? And these are hardly fuck-me-heels.” Elain said and looked down at the shoes in question. “They’re wedges, so they’re casual.” 

“Your nails are painted red,” Nesta said with a devious grin. “And they have straps, so you know your hot fireman will think about undoing them.” 

“Please.” Elain tried to scoff and push the thought out of the room. 

“She has a point,” Feyre said, nudging Elain gently with her elbow. “But it’s nice to see you all dressed up.” 

“And you’re due to a good fucking,” Nesta said, finally capping the mascara. Elain started to protest but her sister continued. “Are there going to be other hot firemen at this thing?” 

“Probably.” Elain said with a smile. 

The sisters made their way towards the door, all of them looking beautiful in their own right. Elain wore a flower-yellow sundress which she thought made her look tan and emphasized her brown eyes. Feyre was beautiful in her denim skirt and loose cream sweater. And Nesta was stunning in tight black jeans and sleek black top. Even though they goofed on Elain for her “fuck-me-heels” she chouldn’t help but notice Feyre and Nesta also wore heels. She smiled fondly as she shut the door behind them and went over to knock on Azriel’s door. 

They waited all of three seconds before the door swung open and they were greeted by an exceedingly beautiful man. One that wasn’t Azriel. Or even Cassian. 

His violet eyes looked at her knowingly before breezing past her and locking onto her sister. His grin grew as keen interest sharpened in his eyes. A crisp, white button down — which seemed it was perfectly tailored to his body — was tucked into jeans, and Elain was certain his outfit cost a small fortune. 

“Hi,” Elain said, forcing herself to speak up. “I’m Elain — I live across the hall. Azriel invited us over.” 

At the mention of her name, Violet Eyes snapped his attention back onto her. 

“I’ve heard so much about you,” He said in an amused voice and stuck his hand out to her. “I’m Rhysand. Azriel will be pleased that you’re here,” Rhysand leaned in close, and Elain could feel Feyre leaning forwards as well, wanting to be included, while Nesta just stood back and observed. “You know he threw this entire party for you.” 

“Hey, don’t fuck with her,” Azriel's familiar voice floated through the air, and Rhysand’s grin had a wicked quality as he moved out of the way to let Azriel in. “And it’s not a party.” 

Rhysand rolled his eyes. 

Elain felt breathless as Azriel’s hazel eyes trailed up and down her body, his eyes catching on the part of her leg that touched the hem of her sundress. 

“Hi.” Elain said softly as her eyes connected with Azriel’s. 

A slow grin unfurled on Azriel’s lips. 

“Hi.” Azriel replied, his eyes heady and smoldering. 

Nesta gave a not-so-subtle clearing of her throat. 

“These are my sisters,” Elain rushed out, her cheeks flaming. “Nesta,” Elain nodded her head. “And Feyre.” 

“Come in,” Azriel said, sticking his hand out to Nesta and Feyre. “Nice to meet you both.”  

They all found themselves crammed into the entry of Azriel’s apartment, with Elain pressed against Azriel’s side. She could feel his muscles through the thin cotton of her dress and his hand naturally settled on her hip. 

“Do you guys want a drink?” Azriel asked, his mouth close to her ear. “We’ve got beer, wine, and something Cassian made called ‘jungle juice’ which Rhys and I haven’t been brave enough to try.”

Nesta let out an amused scoff. 

“Is this a frat party?” Nesta asked, a hair too mockingly, but after certain looks from Feyre and Elain, Nesta shrugged and said, “I like frat parties. It’s the only place we can do body shots in public.” 

Rhysand and Azriel both chuckled at that and shared a look. 

“Come inside.” Azriel said, gently pushing Elain by the small of her back. 

It thrilled her to be touched by him and the fact that it felt so natural and comfortable almost squashed the hair of guilt she felt worming inside of her. 

Azriel wasted no time getting her alone — she barely counted the number of people that filled his living room before he got her into the kitchen which was overflowing with coolers and snack foods. 

“We’re grilling burgers and hot dogs later, but I have some chicken if you’d prefer that — there’s not enough for everyone, but I can grill it just for you. Or Mor brought some pasta salad and I think there’s humus out there if you don’t eat meat. You do —” 

“I’ve never heard Azriel talk this much in my life.” Cassian’s familiar voice came from behind Azriel’s irritated form. 

Cassian joined them and slapped Azriel on the back. 

“Elain, you’re looking stunning as ever.” Cassian said with a smile. Elain could tell that whatever interest he may have had in her fizzled out (thankfully) and he only flirted with her to get a reaction out of Azriel. 

“Thanks Cassian.” 

“Can we help you?” Azriel asked him irritably, and Elain was entirely too affected by the fact that he wanted to have her completely alone. 

“Just getting Nesta some of my famous punch.” Cassian said, entirely too flippantly. Elain had only known him for a short amount of time, but “flip” and “Cassian” didn’t mesh together. 

Azriel grinned at that, his annoyance bleeding away. 

“Trying to get her drunk already?” Azriel teased and Cassian cheeks turned pink. 

“Dude,” Cassian started, looking at Azriel with wide eyes as he grabbed a red plastic cup. “She actually dared me to do a shot off of her —” Azriel kicked him and nodded his head towards Elain. Cassian shot her a pained look. “Sorry Lainy.” 

Elain waved him off and said, “My selective hearing is one of my best qualities.” 

Cassian grinned at her, but Azriel took a step closer to her and leaned against the counter and Elain felt herself being pulled into his side by some magnetic force. Cassian kept talking, but Elain wasn’t entirely sure what about because she kept imagining Azriel putting his arm over her shoulder — and was her mind playing tricks on her, or was he gripping the counter to stop from reaching for her. If he did put his arm around her shoulder, then would he pull her in close? Would he massage the back of her neck or place his fingers in her hair? He was so close that Elain could smell his aftershave and Elain fought herself from taking a long, deep inhale. 

Suddenly, Elain was hit by the weight of her crush. 

She felt like she was back in high school with the giddy butterflies swarming her stomach. 

“So what does she like?” Cassian’s voice finally broke through, or maybe it was the fact that Azriel kindly nudged her with his elbow. 

“Huh?” Elain asked, a bit dazed from where her thoughts were taking her. 

Cassian grinned at her, as if knowing exactly what she was thinking. 

“Nesta,” Cassian confirmed, not commenting on how spacey Elain was being. “What does she like?” 

Elain thought for a second, tossing and turning ideas over in her mind. 

“Her bark is worse than her bite,” Elain said softly. “And she can be a bit prickly if someone gets too close, but she really just wants someone to like her for who she is. Someone that doesn't back down. And someone who makes her laugh.” 

Cassian nodded, a drink in each hand, and Elain knew he was taking what she said to heart. 

“Thanks,” Cassian said with a kind smile — which quickly turned more devious. “I’ll get of your hair before Azriel kills me like I know he wants to. He was so cute, planning this thing all week and getting pissy when we called it a ‘party’ and —” 

“Alright,” Azriel said, pushing off of the counter and steering Cassian out of the kitchen with by his shoulders “Time to fuck off.” 

Cassian threw his head back in a laugh, his curls flying, but he didn’t put up a fight as Azriel forced him out of the room. 

When they were alone again Azriel finally turned around to face her and Elain couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed on her lips. 

“I have a question,” Elain said as Azriel made his way back to her, his strong arms crossed over his chest. “Did you really do this for me?” Elain asked, her voice slightly too breathy. 

Azriel moved in closer. 

His nose just a hair's breadth away from her. 

“Elain, I’ve lived here for four years and never had more than four other people here at a time, but now I’ve called every friend of a friend I could think of just as a cover so no one would think twice about me inviting the beautiful girl next door into my place. I even have a fucking beyond burger on deck just incase you don’t eat meat. Cassian had to talk me out of buying flowers for tonight but…” Elain couldn’t breathe. Azriel took a step away from her and opened the fridge and Elain saw a beautiful bouquet of tulips. “But Rhysand said to just give them to you tomorrow.” 

“You got me tulips?” Elain asked, the air in the room turned hot and humid and thick.

“You said they were your favorite.” Azriel said, looking slightly confused. 

“And you remembered.” Elain felt her face crumbling. 

Graysen always got her roses. She was always grateful because it was a nice gesture, but she told herself that it was nice enough to get flowers and she shouldn’t be so picky…but it had taken Azriel an entire week to get her a bouquet of her favorite flowers. It wasn’t asking for too much to want something, and in all of two seconds Elain realized just how little she had been settling for. 

“I just thought you’d like them.” Azriel shrugged and brushed a stray wavy lock out of his face. 

“I love them. I —” She was about to say that she was going to break up with Graysen. Because she was going to at the first chance she got. She was tired of settling for the merest hint of attention and every scrap of affection that he bothered to throw at her. And it was so incredibly important to her that Azriel know that she’s going to end her relationship. 

“Elain?” 

Invisible ice slid down her back as she looked behind Azriel to see Graysen standing in the doorway, his eyes bouncing back between Elain and Azriel. An accusatory look in his eyes, one that wasn’t unfounded, but was thankfully left unspoken. 

Azriel simply nodded to Graysen and closed the refrigerator door. 

“Hey,” Graysen said to Azriel and walked over to Elain, interlocking his fingers with hers. “Thanks for inviting us.” 

Azriel leaned against the closed refrigerator door and crossed his arms. 

Elain wondered if this was something to cry about. 

— — — — 

She had no idea how she made it through the party, but she did. A broken heart heavy in her chest as she smiled her way through polite conversation — she felt awful watching Graysen chat and talk and be friendly knowing she was going to end what was between them. Every time he locked eyes with her he looked a bit confused and he asked if she wanted to leave about three times, but she kept saying no, not wanting to cause any type of suspicion. 

They didn’t leave until almost midnight, and even then there were still people loafing around, but she had completely lost track of Feyre and Nesta. Azriel was backed into a corner by some blonde and Elain avoided the way he was desperately trying to seek her eyes as she left. 

As soon as Elain closed the door to her apartment she watched as Graysen flopped onto her couch and kicked his feet onto the coffee table. 

“Thank fuck that’s over.” Graysen groaned, letting his head fall back onto the couch. 

“Graysen.” Elain said, unable to keep the crack out of her voice. 

His body tensed as he opened his eyes, and Elain knew that he knew. 

He sat up and placed his feet firmly on the ground and clasped his hands together between his knees. 

“Did you fuck him?” Graysen asked, a quiet anger in his voice. 

“No,” Elain said emphatically, walking over to him. “Of course not?” 

“But you thought about it?” Graysen asked, his voice tight like a spring wound too far. 

“I —” Elain couldn’t bring herself to lie about it, she just stood there with her hands limply at her sides. 

“Fuck.” Graysen exclaimed, launching the vase of flowers on the table across the room with the flat of his hand. 

Elain couldn’t help the shriek that escaped her — out of surprise more than anything else. 

“I knew from the way he fucking looked at you, and the way you looked at him…I haven’t seen that look in your eyes since…well, since you looked at me for the first time.” Graysen sounded hurt and defeated and angry and Elain felt about two inches tall. 

A heavy thumping came from her door followed quickly by Azriel’s voice calling out for her name. 

“Great,” Graysen said, standing and gripping his hair. “Fucking great we can’t even break up without him being here.” 

Graysen took a step towards the door, but Elain held out a hand to stop him and rushed towards the door in case he made a charge for it. 

Elain cracked open the door to see a worried and concerned Azriel. 

“Are you ok?” Azriel asked, his eyes looking her over from top to bottom to make sure she wasn’t harmed. “I heard you scream.” 

“I’m fine,” Elain assured him and forced a smile. “Just, um, surprised. But I’m ok. I promise.” 

Azriel’s intense hazel eyes looked behind her, zeroing in on Graysen, and Elain watched as a dark cloud descended on his face. 

“We’ll talk tomorrow?” Azriel asked and Elain nodded, quickly shutting the door. 

Elain turned around and rested her back against the door. 

“At least you’ll be in good hands.” Graysen said bitterly, walking towards the door. 

“Grayen,” Elain pleaded, staring up at him. “Don’t end it like this.” 

He smiled cruelly at her and said, “You’re the one that ended it.” 

He didn’t push her out of the way necessarily, but he definitely pushed past her. 

For some reason, Elain followed him into the hall, it seemed like the polite thing to do. Like she was sad to see him go — and she was sad. She wasn’t sure if she was sad Graysen was leaving or sad that she spent so much of her life with him and now he was going to be nothing more than a memory. 

“Oh great, you’re here,” Graysen said, almost laughing in absurdity. “Of course you’re still here.” 

Azriel’s eyes didn’t move from Graysen, carefully tracking his every move. 

“You didn’t have to stay.” Elain said, melting a bit at the gesture. 

“I wanted to.” Azriel said, his face and voice utterly neutral, making it clear that he didn't want to escalate anything. 

Elain watched the muscle popping in Graysen’s jaw, and he took one step at Azriel before turning and storming down the hall. 

“She’s not worth it.” Graysen muttered before turning the corner. 

Elain and Azriel stood in a heavy silence, broken only by two drunken party goers leaving Azriel’s apartment and he nodded goodbye to them as they stumbled down the hallway. 

“We broke up,” Elain blurted out as soon as they were alone again. “I broke up with him,” Azriel nodded, his eyes wide as he processed what Elain said. More drunken revelry was happening in Azriel’s apartment and before they could be interrupted again Elain motioned to her apartment. “Want to come in?”

Azriel nodded and followed her inside. His eyes immediately took in the broken glass, water, and limp flowers on the floor. 

“The scream?” Azriel asked with a raised eyebrow and Elain nodded shyly. 

“I was surprised.” Elain said, about to spring into action to clean up the mess, but Azriel was already kneeling down and picking up the shards of glass. 

“Don’t cut yourself,” Elain rushed around getting the dustpan and trashcan before kneeling next to him. “You don’t have to do this, Azriel.” 

She swept up some of the glittering pieces of glass and Azriel dumped a handful of them in the trash can. 

“I want to help you, Elain,” Azriel said meaningfully, and Elain felt two hot, salty tears slide down her face. “In any way I can.”

“Thank you,” Elain said, clearing her throat and clearing it again because somehow it became harder to breathe. “Thanks.” 

“You don’t have to thank me, Elain.” Azriel said softly, picking up the last few large pieces of glass. After a quiet pause he softly asked, “What happened?” 

Elain couldn’t look him in the eyes as she wondered how to answer him. 

“You,” She said as she swept a sad-looking rose into the dustpan. “Your tulips. I just — I realized how much our relationship was over, you know? How empty it actually was. I just couldn’t pretend anymore.” 

Elain swept up the last of the damage before finally looking Azriel in the eye. 

“You remembered I liked tulips,” Elain said with a shrug. “He never did.” 

“He’s a fucking idiot.” Azriel said gruffly. 

Elain shrugged and was about to say something in response — she wasn’t sure what, but somebody hollered for Azriel out in the hall. 

“Are you ok?” Azriel asked, standing. Outstretching a hand to Elain to help her stand. 

“I’ll be fine.” Elain said, forcing a smile. A smile that melted into a very real one before Azriel placed a kiss on the back of her hand. 

Azriel’s name was called again and he begrudgingly left her apartment. 

Elain took a shower and tried not to think too much about what the hell happened, and listened to music that both helped her wallow in her sadness and made her feel a little less alone and eventually she managed to fall asleep. Before she slipped into her dreams she remembered the plate of cookies she made especially for Azriel, wanting to hold off until the party was over to give them to him. 

When she woke up the next morning, it was to Azriel knocking at her door holding a bouquet of tulips and a little shot of espresso. 

#The Tortured Bats Department #elriel #elain x azriel #elain archeron #pro elriel #azriel #elriel fanfiction #elriel fanfic #fawnandshadows writing #elriel month #elriel month 2024

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Me: don't make Charlie's habit of twirling / spinning Vaggie into a THiNG it can just be CUTE with no other headcanons behind it-

also me: what if Vaggie always loved dancing but took being an exorcist very seriously bc of the whole "learned to trust people on the battlefield" thing so the only time she felt she had an excuse for dancing with a partner was when she called it "training" or "unarmed sparing" and goaded Lute into doing it with her (Lute being Adam's second and Vaggie one of his best girls) (what, is Lute scared of not being able to keep up with her-?)

Lute: "This, is stupid."

Vaggie: "It's just like sparring."

Lute: "Then why can't I use a sword."

Vaggie: "The point is learning to read your opponent's body and move with it. A weapon only gets in the way."

Lute: "Or maybe you know which on of us would win in a real fight."

Vaggie: "OR maybe it's nice to practice WITHOUT someone losing feathers over it."

Lute: "Only losers lose feathers. If they don't like it they should start WINNING."

Vaggie: "Just put your fucking hand on my waist and do a box step."

Lute: "A what? Put my hand- where!?"

Vaggie: "Forget it. We'll dance like we're in a damn period piece ballroom scene. You can at least survive spinning me, right?"

Lute: "SPIN you?"

Vaggie: "Just hold up your hand and-"

Lute: "We look dumb enough as is! I'm not making myself look SILLY just so you can do a stupid spin."

Vaggie: "Fine."

Lute: "You need to watch yourself. Exorcist are heaven's first line of defense- we are the divine blades guarding the pearly gates. We need to keep ourselves sharp, focused- If you slip even once-"

Vaggie: "I said fine! I get it! Alright? God let's just, let's just get this over with..."

And then she's in hell, a year or so after Lute grabbed her wrist and pulled her eye-first onto a sword instead of a dance,

and it turns out the princess of hell is an eager and willing dancer, even if she's maybe not the most graceful or easy to follow- but it's the kind of challenge Vaggie loves-

(and not the only thing Vaggie loves)

-especially when Charlie's the one who cleared out a space, put on a playlist, and waved her into the middle of the room so they could laugh and bow / curtsy before making tracks across the carpet-

all of this, even though Charlie's still rusty at dancing, never was into it other much other than as another way to flail around to a beat, and here she is now, seriously trying to remember or learn all the different steps Vaggie shows her

this time it's a waltz

Vaggie's been avoiding waltzes. And sure enough she finds herself spacing out in the middle of it, coming back to the excited sound of Charlie's voice

Charlie: "I think we're doing it!"

Vaggie: "...hm?"

Charlie: "The waltz! It's been ages but, this is about right, right?"

Vaggie: "Oh uh, yeah. You've got it. Told you you would."

Charlie: (laughing) "And I told YOU if we made it through this it'd be because you're so good at making ME look like a good dancer! Even when my hooves keep snagging on the carpet... Even when you're a million miles away."

Vaggie: "Shit. Sorry."

Charlie: "No it's fine! Good practice for me leading!" (leading them onto a new patch of floor) "So! A lot on your mind?"

Vaggie: "Just remembered something, is all."

Charlie: "Waltz related?"

Vaggie: "I wouldn't compare this with that."

Charlie: "Aww, shoot." (pouts) "Well give me a few months and I'll get there."

Vaggie: (chuckling) "Charlie, you're already WAY past the last dance partner I had."

Charlie: "Wow. That bad huh?"

Vaggie: "What'd I just say about you and dancing?"

Charlie: "That at least I'm not totally the absolute worst ever?"

Vaggie: "Yeah no. Try again."

Charlie: (grinning) "I'm better than they were."

Vaggie: "You sure are. Actually trying counts for a lot, honestly."

Charlie: "You make trying things a lot easier." (hoof catches) (stumbles) (vaggie steadies her) "Case in point!"

Vaggie: "We really gotta remember to roll up the carpet next time."

Charlie: "Orrrr you'll just have to go on catching me!"

Vaggie: "I'll do that with or without the carpet."

Charlie: "Right!" (face hot) "Er so, were they clumsy too? Lacking in the whole smooth moves department?" (blushes MORE)

Vaggie: "The moves were fine, the ego got in the way a bit."

Charlie: "Ego?"

Vaggie: (sighs) (rolls eye) "Apparently twirling me would've looked too silly."

Charlie: "Wh- Twirling you?"

Vaggie: "Spinning. Whatever. They cared about that a lot and- I know I know- it's a dumb thing to still be hung up on."

Charlie: "Well I'd be honored to look silly with you!"

Vaggie: (laughing) "Okay?"

Charlie: "Can I spin you?"

Vaggie: "You really don't have to."

Charlie: "So we can do it on three? One. Two-"

Vaggie: "Really it's- watch out, table at 3 O'clock-"

Charlie: "-Wheeeeee~!"

Vaggie: "WHOA- that-" (breathless) "Now THAT was a spin."

Charlie: "Eheheh. Whoops?"

Vaggie: "Oh no, no whoopsing your way out of this one, I'm gonna need to inflict some payback spinning of my own." (grins)

Charlie: "Uh I'm kinda tall for-"

Vaggie: "You ever been lifted?"

Charlie: "I mean when I was a kid sure, but I'm like a foot taller than-"

Vaggie: "On three. One."

Charlie: "-Vaggie you come up to maybe my shoulder-"

Vaggie: "Two."

Charlie: "-not that you can't do anything you set your mind to, obviously! I'm just not sure how-"

Vaggie: "Three."

Charlie: "Hwha- OH!" (gleeful) (laughing) "Ohhh my gosh-!"

Vaggie: (smug) "There's more than one way to twirl a girl across the floor."

Charlie: "Spinning WHILE lifting!?"

Vaggie: "Fun right?"

Charlie: "SO MUCH FUN! Can we do it again!?"

Vaggie: "Sure-"

Charlie: "Ooh ohh can I do it to you too? Can we take turns??"

Vaggie: "Not worried about looking silly, huh?"

Charlie: "No! Why would-" (stops)

Charlie: (stops their dance)

Charlie: "Vaggie, I.... I really don't know why anyone wouldn't want to be silly with you. Or how it could ever be more important than seeing you happy like this."

Vaggie: "...Not everyone's like you, sweetie."

Charlie: "Or maybe everyone just needs to actually see you for once."

Vaggie: "I'd rather just stick to you for now. If, that's okay?"

Charlie: "Always."

(dance resumes, much slower, much closer)

Charlie: "It's, it's okay to miss people too, you know. I know, I mean. How much that sucks. If you, want to talk about...?"

Vaggie: "No. Thanks."

Charlie: "You're missing them though, huh?"

Vaggie: "It's not that. It's just, weird how much things change."

Charlie: "Like dance partners."

Vaggie: "Like your reasons for dancing with them."

Charlie: "....Oh."

(do they kiss???) (i have no idea) (maybe Vaggie just relaxes and rests her head over Charlie's heart) (maybe Charlie tries her best not to think about how hard it's beating)

(maybe somewhere up in heaven, an exorcist with a sword does a box step while training, slips, and slices her target in half in fury when she realizes it)

maybe Vaggie always loved dancing but had to end up in hell before finally getting to dance the way she always wanted to

or maybe

it feels like Vaggie never danced at all, until she had Charlie to share it with

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #lute hazbin hotel #silly headcanons #I DONT EVEN CARE I DONT EVEN CAAARRRRE JUST LET THEM DANCE #IM SO #THIRSTY FOR THEM DANCING!!!!!!! #ALSO I WANT LUTE TO SUFFER MORE #BUT MAINLY JUST LET CHAGGIE SLOW DANCE PLEASSSSSSSSE

[madi-writes-things]

Nobody Pt. 1

(C.Sturniolo X Reader)

Summary:

Chris and Y/N never seemed to get along, but sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places

Word Count: 1,009

TW: Cursing, SH (not in detail, but it definitely happens and is talked about), Blood, Violence, Hurt Comfort, Not edited, Bad stuff under the cut

A/N: Hey guys, just wanted to pop in t let you know that my DM’s are always open if you need someone to talk to. I use y writing as a safe and healthy outlets for the destructive thoughts, but reading i these sorts of things isn’t healthy for everyone… keep yourself safe.

-Madi <3

Y/N’s POV

“”“”“”“”“”

“What do you want?” I ask when I see Chris walk into my room without knocking. I didn’t mean for it to sound so rude, but it just kind of happens when i talk to him. I don’t even remember why we hate each other, and i bet he doesn’t either… its just always been like this.

“Nick was too lazy to come upstairs…” he stared at me for a second before continuing. “We’re going out to film, do you want us to get You something for dinner?”

“I’ll just text nick what I want” as he leaves i wonder if he even cares. I only live with him because Nick and Matt begged me to come to LA with them after HighSchool. Nick and i have been best friends since eighth grade when I transferred to their district, and Matt has always been nice to me… but Chris never seemed to like me, eventually i stopped going out of my way to be nice to him.

I hear the door closes, quickly followed by the sound of Matt pulling out of the driveway.

“”“”“”“”“”

How did i get here? Nick would be so mad at me… he would never say it, but i know it’s frustrating when people you care about keep making the same mistakes. I look down at my thighs, realizing that I can’t even see the individual cuts through the blood. I should have just woken Nick up, if i had I wouldn’t be in this situation.

The tears have mostly stopped flowing at this point, and the adrenaline is dying down. The weight of what I’ve done starts to set in. I need to clean this up, I need to get help, I need to get Nic-

“What the fuck” as I look up I’m met with the icy blue eyes of Chris. Before I can process what is happening he is yanking the blade out of my hand and flushing it down the toilet. “Y/N, look at me… what happened?” Seeing the panic in his eyes makes me feel bad, he was never supposed to have to deal with this.

“Can you please get the first aid kit from under my bed?” The words roll off my tongue with ease. He just stared at me with fear in his eyes. “I’ll be fine, just go” with that he turned around and went to my room.

Chris returned a few minutes later, with my large first aid kit, and a gas station bag in his hands. I had been desperately trying to clean up some of the mess with toilet paper, but I was mostly failing. “Can you please sit on the side of the bathtub?” I stared up at him in confusion. “Please Y/N… please just let me help you clean up”

“do you even know what you’re doing?” His response consisted of turning his phone to face me, an article on how to clean self harm wounds staring back at me. “Fine…” I did what he asked and positioned myself on the side of the tub.

Chris started by wiping up what I had missed from the floor, quickly moving to sit in between my legs. As he started cleaning me up, I realized how intimate our position was. He wouldn’t look me in the eyes, but I could tell that he was holding back tears. After he stopped all the bleeding, and cleaned off the wounds he just stared for a second… and it broke me.

the tears started streaming down my face again, nothing could’ve stopped them. “Don’t tell Nick… he can’t know I’m doing this again.”

He finally looked up at me, taking a breath to steady himself before speaking. “again?” I just stared. He finished up what he was doing in silence before finally speaking. “Ok… I won’t tell Nick, as long as you let me help you with this”

“I don’t need help Chris.” He didn’t respond, causing me to panic. “Fine, but nobody can know about this.” He held out his pinky, I locked mine into his… an unspoken promise between us.

Chris disposed of any evidence, before carrying me to his room. I was too tired to protest, and it’s not like anyone would be up early enough to notice. He gave me a pair of sweats, and climbed into the bed with me.

“”“”“”“”“”

I woke up to Chris laying practically on top of me, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist. For a moment I didn’t mind… until I saw the time.

“wake up!” I shook him lightly, his eyes flutter open before widening at the position he was currently in. “I need to get up, me and Nick are supposed to go get breakfast for a video… he can’t know that I slept in here.” Chris quickly rolled off of me, and I rushed down the stairs.

As I made my way into the living room I could see Matt and Nick, sitting in silence. They looked at me at the same time, just as Chris came down the stairs to join us.

“Why are you wearing his sweat pants?” Nick stared daggers into my soul. “They must’ve gotten mixed up in the laundry…” I hated lying to my best friend, but he couldn’t know.

“I see… what’s your fake excuse for being in his bed this morning?” I looked at Chris quickly as we walked closer to his brothers. He met my eyes, unsure of what the right decision was.

“please Chris…” I whispered. “You promised me you wouldn’t tell him.” I see Chris make a decision, and before I can stop him he opens his mouth.

“We slept together.” He looked at me, apologizing with his eyes. I look between Nick and Matt, trying to judge their reactions. While this wasn’t ideal, it was better than the truth… until I saw Nick get up.

in a matter of seconds Nick had punched Chris across the face. After flexing his hand, he looked at me with nothing but hatred before walking away.

#madi makes things #madi writes things #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt #nick sturniolo #sh!reader #angst #hurt/comfort

[anonymousewrites]

Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Three

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

Chapter Three: Controlling Television

Summary: The Hotel learns about the extermination coming early, and (Y/N) meets someone new.

            “Okay, so the extermination is coming in six months instead of a year,” said Charlie, pacing. “No big deal. Just a little setback. Nothing we can’t handle. Just angels cutting our timetable in half. But who needs a whole year to save souls?” She laughed nervously, the breakdown beginning. “Am I right? And next time, when they cut the time in half again and again, we’ll just handle it, right?”

            Vaggie caught Charlie by the shoulders. “Yes. We will.” She attempted to steady her girlfriend.

            “Oh, please, ya had less of a chance when you started all this salvation bullshit,” said Angel. “And now….Ain’t no silver lining this time toots.”

            “Sure there is,” said Charlie. “We just have to look a little harder for it.”

            “Seems pretty bleak to me,” said (Y/N). “I don’t know much about it, but it feels like the angels get to do whatever they want and fuck us over.”

            Angel nodded, and Charlie deflated. “The rest of Hell agrees with them. They’re going nuts.” Angel grimaced as he read through reactions on his phone. “People are freaking out about the news.” He held up his phone. “Look at what’s happening in the Doomsday District.”

            The land was on fire, and Charlie frowned as a notification popped up.

            “Er, what is a ‘donkey show?’ ” she asked.

            “Ah! Heh, nothing!” said Angel, snatching his phone back. “My boss, Val, is just freaked out about the news, too. Like I said, everyone’s losing their shit.”

            “Yeah, that’s true. Sinners are desperate,” said Vaggie. “Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape the next extermination?” She smiled at Charlie.

            “This is the perfect time to recruit more sinners for the hotel!” said Charlie excitedly.

            “People will do everything except for try to change themselves,” said (Y/N), dubious of that idea. “If exterminations have been going on for…forever, I don’t really know if this will change anything yet. You’d have to be really convincing.”

            “Well, yeah, but that’s why I have to go out and gather people myself!” said Charlie. “It’s not people are going to show up on our doorstep.”

            Boom!

            The wall exploded (again).

            “Show yourself, Alastor!” cried a familiarly snakelike and dramatic voice. It was Sir Pentious from the previous incident, back to get his ass beat again (because what else was going to happen to him? Alastor was way more powerful than him). “Come and face—”

            “Will you shut up?!” snapped (Y/N), leaning their head out the hole. “We’re trying to handle some problems in here!”

            Pentious deflated in disappointment as the teenager glared at him, completed unintimidated. “I’m not here for you! I’m here for Alastor!”

            Hearing the commotion and always loving some entertainment, Alastor popped out of the shadows with a mug that said “Hello, Deer.” “Who are you?” he asked.

            “Who am I?! Who am I!?” cried Pentious. “I am the great Sir Pentious! Inventor, architect of destruction, villain extraordinaire!”

            “Ooh, he’s a bad boy,” said Niffty, grinning.

            “Huh, well, if all that’s true, you’d think I’d have heard of you,” said Alastor, grinning.

            “I attacked you literally last week,” said Pentious.

            Alastor tilted his head, clearly not remembering a thing.

            “We’ve done battle like twenty times!” said Pentious.

            “Well, you must have been really bad at this,” said Alastor.

            “Silence! Now cower!” cried Pentious. “For when I’ve slain you, the almighty Vees will finally acknowledge me as their equal!”

            (Y/N) looked at Vaggie. “Who are the Vees?”

            “Velvette, Valentino, and Vox—three of the worst Overlords. Velvette deals in fashion and social media, Valentino runs Hell’s biggest porn studio, and Vox controls almost all technology,” said Vaggie. She crossed her arms. “Don’t get involved with them. They’re manipulative pieces of shit.”

            “Definitely am not planning it,” said (Y/N). They didn’t want to get put under anyone’s thumb after their life.

            “They’re nobody important,” said Alastor.

l

            “You know, Angel isn’t the only one spending time at that ratty hotel with the devil’s princessa,” said Valentino.

            “Oh, who else is there? Someone who owes you money?” asked Vox.

            Valentino chuckled. “Someone who owes us much more than money. The Radio Demon is there.”

            Vox’s screen sparked, and his nails dug into the desk. “What did you say?”

            “You heard me,” said Valentino.

            “Alastor came back, and he is with Lucifer’s daughter, and that wasn’t the first fucking thing you told me?!” snapped Vox.

            “Hey, killing Alastor is your kink,” said Valentino, waving a hand.

            Vox glared at the screens in the room, and one switched onto a recording on the hotel so he could glare at the gathering outside. Alastor, who kept glitching in the recording, was grinning and standing beside Lucifer’s daughter, her girlfriend, Angel, and a young demon with a rose motif.

l

            “Oh, please, stop!” cried Pentious as his ship was once again torn apart by shadows while Alastor cackled in amusement.

            “Um, Alastor? I think he’s had enough,” said Charlie.

            “I don’t know, he came here asking for it,” said (Y/N), smiling brightly.

            “Oh, yeah, he’s got a few more hits in ‘im,” snickered Angel.

            Pentious fell out of his ship and landed on the ground.

            “Thanks for another forgettable experience,” said Alastor with a wide grin.

            “Thank…you…” groaned Pentious. “For letting your guard down!” His tail shot out, tore off a piece of Alastor’s coat, and retreated. Pentious laughed.

            A large shadow loomed over him.

            “Oh, shit.”

            Green magic exploded from Alastor, and Pentious was sent flying out of the hotel’s airspace.

            “Well, it looks as though I need a visit to the tailor,” said Alastor, turning away from the flying snake without a care. “Best of luck, chums!”

            “Wait, you’re leaving?” said Vaggie. “Alastor, we need your help. We need you to do your job.”

            “We need a wall,” said Angel.

            “Of course! Can’t let my new project fall into disrepair already! What would the papers say?” Alastor snapped his fingers, and shadow workers, like from the advertisement, popped up to help rebuild the wall. Satisfied, Alastor turned and walked away.

            Angel grinned and approached the shadows. “Hey, sweet cheeks. What you doin’ later?”

            “I’m out,” said (Y/N), turning away before they had to see Angel flirt more.

            “Can you at least help us?” asked Vaggie, gesturing to the destroyed wall.

            “…Do I look like I have experience building walls?” said (Y/N), frowning.

            “You can buy us a new painting. Charlie likes having decorations, and one got destroyed by Sir Pentious,” said Vaggie.

            (Y/N) considered. “Are you giving me money?”

            “Yes,” said Vaggie.

            “Ok, sure,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

            “Right,” said Vaggie, pulling out cash. “And here, I’ll show you where to go.”

            She pulled out her phone to show a map of the Pride ring. The last thing they needed was (Y/N) getting lost and getting into trouble. Actually, Charlie would probably be against sending (Y/N) out for an errand, but Vaggie had seen they were going a bit stir crazy from being at the hotel all the time, so the least she could do was give (Y/N) a short errand to run to one of the more civilized/reputable areas of Pride. And if there was any trouble, Vaggie would go into town and intercede with her spear.

l

            (Y/N) hadn’t expected running an errand in Hell to go so smoothly. After every other person at the hotel complained or ran into some trouble (Angel: old customers, Vaggie and Charlie: haters of the hotel, Husk: people in general), (Y/N) had expected to have to stay on their toes. Instead, they had gone into the shop Vaggie asked them to, purchased a non-inappropriate painting, and headed out with enough change to buy themself something.

            (Y/N) had seen a café on the way into town, and now the sweets were calling their name as they headed back. Seeing as they never got to treat themself in life, why not do so in death?

            (Ironically, so far their death had been better and more filled with friendship than their life had been.)

            (Y/N) walked through the streets, pausing only to make sure they had the right directions. Sure, they’d been fine so far, but they weren’t going to test their luck by going anywhere they weren’t supposed to.

            (Y/N) passed by a group of demons staring at television screens in a store window, entranced. Curious, (Y/N) paused to glance at the screens.

            They were displaying an advertisement for merchandise from the very store they were standing in. People were in a trance watching, and they all immediately rushed inside to purchase what they’d seen advertised.

            (Y/N) frowned. Looking at the screens gave them a headache, so (Y/N) turned to walk away. They had a bad feeling about the store and technology—so missing from the hotel—and they weren’t going to ignore that feeling.

            No sooner had (Y/N) decided to ignore the screens that one buzzed to life, and sparks jumped from the screen. (Y/N) froze as the sparks formed the body of a man with a TV for a head in front of them on the sidewalk, effectively blocking their path.

            Well, shit, I don’t think I’ve successfully avoided trouble, thought (Y/N). It didn’t take a genius to realize this was Vox, who Vaggie had warned them about.

            “No interest in any technology?” said Vox with a wide, electric grin.

            “Nope.” (Y/N) kept their answer short and curt, trying to get out of the conversation.

            “You’re one of the sinners staying at the princess’s hotel,” said Vox, eyes narrowing calculatingly. His smile widened. “I don’t believe you have a phone. Are you sure you don’t need one?” He held out his hand, and a phone was held in it. “Think of it as a welcome gift to Hell.”

            “I’m not interested,” said (Y/N), stepping around Vox to attempt an escape from the encounter.

            Vox turned immediately, still smiling widely. Apparently, it wasn’t going to be that easy to avoid him. “I’m just trying to support the hotel. Like the Radio Demon.” His smile glitched slightly.

            Oh. So that’s what this was. Vox was just trying to get in Alastor’s hair and annoy him.

            “Yeah, well, we’re okay,” said (Y/N), taking a step away.

            “Are you sure?” One of Vox’s eyes pulsed with energy, and (Y/N)’s headache grew stronger.

            “Yes,” said (Y/N) firmly.

            “I think that you may want to reconsider,” said Vox, eye still swirling.

            “I think I’m fine,” said (Y/N). “So just leave me alone.” They narrowed their eyes.

            Vox’s screen sparked, and his eyes narrowed.

            Danger, danger!

            Sparks flew at (Y/N).

            Bam!

            A bramble of vines and thorns erupted from the ground and blocked the sparks. (Y/N)’s eyes widened, and Vox sparked.

            “What the—”

            “My, my, are you bothering one of my guests?”

            A shadow loomed over Vox and (Y/N). Vox flinched and looked to see Alastor with a wide, threatening smile.

            “Really, Vox, what terrible manners,” said Alastor.

            “Radio Demon,” snapped Vox.

            “Yes, precisely,” said Alastor. “So run along and leave my guests alone. Really, how unbecoming.” His grin sharpened. “Unless, of course, if you’d like to have another little competition.”

            Vox glared, and his screen glitched. However, he wasn’t interested in going toe-to-toe with Alastor again after getting his entire network shut down for a few hours, so with a final angry glare, he dissolved into electricity and disappeared into the TVs he came from.

            “Well, what a terrible way to end a day out,” tsked Alastor.

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N), making a face.

            Alastor looked at the briar sticking up from the ground. “And what might this be?”

            (Y/N) stared at it. “It just kind of…appeared.”

            Alastor raised an eyebrow. “When Vox threatened you?”

            “Uh, yeah,” said (Y/N), touching the vine curiously. It flinched and disappeared back into the ground. “Huh.”

            Alastor grinned. “How interesting.”

            “What do you mean?” said (Y/N), cocking their head.

            “That, my dear, is magic,” said Alastor. His grin had widened in amusement. “It seems you’re going to be an entertaining guest.”

            “Oh, yay,” said (Y/N) sarcastically. “That’s exactly what I’m hoping to be.”

            Alastor laughed and waved a hand. “Have no fear, have no fear. Why, the entertainment I’m looking for is you struggling with that magic.”

            “Thanks,” said (Y/N), still deadpan. “I’ll make sure to practice in front of you so you can laugh.

            Alastor grinned. “Why, thank you, dear! Perhaps I’ll even give you a few tips!”

            (Y/N) looked at him, rolled their eyes, and shrugged. “Have fun.”

            “Oh, I always do,” chirped Alastor. “Now, come, let’s return to the hotel. No point getting into more trouble, even if you’ve discovered magic.” He looked at them. “And I do intend to give you a few tips.”

            “Wait, really?” said (Y/N), blinking in surprise.

            “Of course. I can’t have my guests being helpless,” said Alastor, twirling his staff.

            (Y/N) perked up. “Thanks, Alastor!”

            He glanced at them, surprised at the boisterous honesty. He decided not to respond, and the pair walked back towards Hazbin Hotel in silence.

            That was fine with (Y/N). They were contemplating finally having some power of their own for their own life.

l

            “Oh, good, you made it back alright!” said Charlie. She smiled at (Y/N). “Vaggie told me she sent you out, and I was worried!”

            “I didn’t mind going out. I’m going stir crazy here,” said (Y/N).

            “And they have proven themself capable of keeping themself safe,” said Alastor with a grin.

            Vaggie frowned. “Wait, did something happen?”

            (Y/N) coughed. “You know how you told me to avoid the Vees?”

            “Yeah?” said Vaggie, narrowing her eyes.

            “Vox decided to pop out of a TV in front of me,” said (Y/N).

            “What?!” cried Vaggie.

            “Relax, they were fine,” said Alastor. He twirled his staff. “I interceded before anything could happen to them, and Vox’s sparks couldn’t even hurt them.” His grin widened. “They summoned magic of their own.”

            “You did?” said Charlie excitedly.

            (Y/N) nodded. “Apparently, yeah.”

            “That’s awesome!” said Charlie encouragingly.

            “Yes, it’s quite unusual,” said Alastor. “And I intend to teach them.”

            Everyone froze and stared at Alastor.

            “You what?” repeated Charlie, an awkward smile on her face.

            “I will be teaching (Y/N) to use their magic. We can’t have them being helpless, now, can we?” Alastor still wore his signature grin, as mischievous as ever.

            Oh shit, thought everyone. If there was one thing they knew, it was Alastor taking a liking to the teenager couldn’t be a good thing. It could only spell trouble and mischief.

            And, unfortunately for them, (Y/N) wore an excited grin that promised all that trouble and more.

Taglist:

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@boredwithlifeatthispoint

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@paastaboi

@bettybabys

@gxdoesstuff

@grippleback-galaxy

@just-here-reading

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@romyoia

@ray-rook

#nature of the human soul #x reader #gn reader #nb reader #x gn reader #x nb reader #x teen!reader #x teen reader #found family #alastor x reader #teen reader #teen!reader #hazbin hotel x teen!reader #platonic hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x teen reader #platonic x reader #platonic #father figure #found family trope #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x teen reader #alastor x teen!reader

[sturniololoco]

can you write a little sis fanfic about them going skating together or one where they all go on a bike ride and y/n gets hurt

Skating Accident

Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets

“SLS/N, Hurry up!” Nick yells from downstairs.

“Shut the fuck up! I’m coming!” I yelled back, frantically searching my room for my beanie. It was the special one where my ponytail could come out of the top.

After climbing on the floor under my bed, I finally found it. I then sprinted downstairs, grabbing my skates from the closet by the front door. I then rushed out the front door and locked it.

Hoping into the back seat next to Nick, I chucked my skates in the trunk, slightly out of breath from my frantic search.

“It’s about damn time slow poke!” Matt says, reversing before I even put my seat belt on.

I roll my eyes at him then turn my head to Chris.

“Remember what you promised. You said you were gonna teach me to skate backwards.” I told my brother, reminding him of the deal we made on the couch last night.

“I will I promise!” He said, holding up his pinky finger.

I interlocked my finger with his, pinky swearing.

-

The rink was empty when we walked inside. Nick paid while Matt, Chris, and I began to walk to the edge of the rink to put our skates on.

Matt threw their sticks down and quickly laced up his skates, hoping in the ice and skating around, stick in hand, puck on the floor.

I was having a bit of trouble however.

My skate laces were all jacked up and I was struggling to get them untied.

Chris must have noticed because he walked over and kneeled in front of me.

“C’mere kiddo.” He said, beginning to to work on my skate.

I nervously bit my nails while he worked. I’ve never been as good as a skater as my brothers, and for some odd reason, I was scared of embarrassing myself.

“There you go kid.” He said, Patting my leg, then standing up. He threw his own skates on, then grabbed my hand and helped me out onto the ice.

“Hey SLS/N!? You need a little kid walker?!” Matt yelled, he and Nick giggling at my unbalanced approach onto the ice.

I flicked up off, nearly falling in the process, which only made them laugh even harder.

Chris grabbed my hands and steadied me. I leaned into him as he started to skate backwards, pulling me with him.

- I was fine skating forwards, but backwards was a whole different story.

We went around the rink a couple of times, just skating and talking. Matt and Nick would join us in the occasional loop.

But then Chris turned me around and started pulling me backwards.

“CHRIS-“ I began to say, but he quickly cut me off with reassurance.

“You’re fine sis, I’m right here if you fall.” He said, still guiding me backwards.

I tried to take deep breaths as he began teaching me. He showed me how my skates were supposed to go in and out, kinda like noodles.

Once I got the hang of it, Matt, Nick, and Chris hooped and hollered, hyping me up. I felt my face light up with glee as I began to feel more and more confident.

But then Chris let go of my waist.

Panic immediately flooded me, as I couldn’t stop myself. Completely forgot everything Chris had taught me and made my legs go stiff.

Just as I feel my self start to slip and the ground got closer, strong arms caught me around the waist.

“I told you I’m right here.” Chris said, smiling down at me.

I let out a sigh of relief, no longer scared of hitting the ground.

Matt skated over to me and grabbed my hand, helping me get back in my feet. The both held my hands as we went back to skating around the rink.

-

“Who wants to race?!” Matt yelled excitedly. Chris and I lined up next to him, as Nick insisted that he should be the ref.

Again, I was fine with skating forward, it’s the backwards part that gets me.

As Nick blew the imaginary whistle, we took off, Matt easily blowing past Chris and I.

It was a tie for second as Chris and I touched the wall, already yelling about who one.

“Just rematch for second time place!” Nick yelled, interrupting our banter.

Chris and I lined up again, then bolted at the sound of Nicks fake whistle.

I easily got ahead this time, glancing back as I left Chris in the dust.

But when I turned around, I found myself heading face first into the ice. I flung my hands out to catch me, lading in my wrist and feeling a sharp pop and then a stabbing sensation in my wrist.

“Oh FUCK!” I cried out, rolling in to my side, clutching my arm in agony. The tears were falling from my eyes as my brother skated over to me.

“Holy shit- that’s a broken wrist. We need to go.” Matt said, as he was the first one to my side.

He scooped up my shaking, sobbing body and skated as fast as he could off the ice, Nick and Chris close behind.

-

Chris carried me into the ER due to my lack of shoes, seeing that it would be faster if he just scooped me up and ran rather then take the time to put my shoes on.

My wrist hurt so fucking had, I could barely think strait. Tears were still racking my body as Nick checked me in at the front desk.

We got lucky, the wait was only 10 minutes. But for every second of the time, I was sobbing into Chris’s chest.

“He rubbed up and down my arm, whispering soft reassurances into my ears.

-

After an overly long ER visit and a hard cast later, we were finally heading home.

I was laying down in the back, my head resting on Nick’s lap as he gently played with my hair.

I sighed in content as the pain slowly drifted away as I fell asleep.

I was thinking ab doing a pt 2 for this, yeah? Like they take care of her. What do yall think?

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03 @thematthewlover @mattsaq

#nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo sister x reader #sturniolo sister

[gemstone-roses]

I’ve really enjoyed your Hannibal fics and I was wondering if y could do one with fem reader when Hannibal and them get in a argument and he tries to woo her with gifts and stuff but it doesn’t work so he sets up like a really cute picnic or something xx thank you 🫶🏼🫶🏼

Hi! Thankyou so much! I enjoy writing them!

Warnings: bit of angst, fluff, kissing.

Reblogs and comments much appreciated thankyou🥺

He realises he's fucked up about three seconds after the door shuts, he steadies himself on the counter.

He can't even remember what you had been arguing about, but he remembers the moment the words left his lips before he could stop himself.

And your reaction hurt him the most.

You didn't yell, you didn't shout, scream, tell him he went too far, you just calmly said,

"Well then, I think I'll go now".

There's no attitude in your words, no sarcasm, no fight.

And hannibal realises then he's really done it.

He hesitates to call, it takes everything in him not to pick up the phone but he knows its what you need.

He starts with flowers. They appear on your desk, they are far too grand for you to feel comfortable displaying them, and he knows that, but he's not thinking with all his usual consideration right now.

He knows the gifts he's been sending probably didn't go down well, because your still not talking to him.

He even saw you pour the coffee he had left for you down the sink.

Deep down hannibal knew buying you gifts to apologise would never work, so when his mind has cleared slightly, he can think a bit clearer, he knows exactly what to do.

Instead of finding a gift at your desk today, you found a note. Handwriting out of a fairytale, you knew it was from hannibal.

It said to meet him on the top of the hill you'd spent your summer evenings on.

You loved it, there was a single cherry blossom tree at the top, and when the wind blew and the petals fell, you felt serene up there.

You walk the path up to the hill, your mood towards hannibal had long gone, you were just waiting for him to come -with a bit of grovelling- back to you.

You reached the top of the hill and hannibal stood from the blanket he'd laid out and walked towards you.

"Hi darling" he whispers, relief washing over him, because you showed up.

"Hi" you smile.

"I, I made some food, your favourite" he smiles and you think you might melt because here is hannibal, tripping over his words, apologising.

"Ooh, good, I'm starving" you laugh.

Hannibal wraps his arm around your waist, tenativley.

You lean into his embrace and he holds you tighter.

"Im sorry" he kisses the top of your head.

"I know" you say

"Truly, I should not have said what I did, and I hope you can forgive me" he says, his hand stroking up and down your side.

"Hannibal, we've all said something we shouldn't have done at one time or another, myself included" you assured him.

"I know but- "it still leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be" you say. And hannibal smiles. He ushers you to sit down and grabs a bottle of your favourite sparkling drink.

"Here darling" he offers you a glass and you stretch your legs out on the blanket.

"Thankyou, this is beautiful". You whisper, tilting your head back to look up at the canopy of the cherry blossom tree.

"Much better than that horrendously over the top bouquet you sent me" you jibe at him, hannibal leans back with you and laughs.

"Sorry about that" he says, and he leans his head forward just a tiny bit as if to indicate he really is sorry. You place your free hand on his chin, placing your drink down behind you.

You lean into him, catching his lips in a kiss. Hannibal props himself up so he's able to grasp your face with his hands.

He kisses you like it's the last thing he'll ever do.

He breaks the kiss eventually, leaving you breathless.

"The food is going cold" he whispers, hand running across your jaw.

Finally, hannibal hands you a plate of the food, smiling.

"Thankyou, you say" the stunning picnic he's put together warming your heart, and hannibal, is forgiven.

#hannibal lecter fanfiction #hannibal x reader #hannibal imagine #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal fanfiction

[shokopan]

WE DON’T NEED THINGS LIKE MEMORIES  .  MIYA ATSUMU

PAIRING: atsumu x gn!reader

GENRE: fluff/comfort and the tiniest bit of angst if you really squint

WORD COUNT: 0.7k

CONTENT WARNINGS: cursing

AYA’S NOTES: i was sifting through my old folder of haikyuu fics i wrote last yr && remembered how much i loved this fic when i found it :DDD

“what’s wrong with saying that i'd date you if we'd met in high school?” you inquire, clutching your legs tight to your chest as you rock towards atsumu slightly, deliberately falling into your boyfriend's chest as he swiftly snakes an arm around your waist to steady you.

“nothing babe, i swear,” he instantly replies, untangling your fingers from each other to replace one with his free hand, “you just didn’t know me then! i wasn’t too great of a guy in high school if i’m being honest. you probably would've ended up crushing on samu or aran kun, maybe even kita san. he's always been pretty good looking and had tons of girls admiring him,”

“and remember when we first met in uni?” atsumu continues, eyes lowering down when he senses a newfound warmth as you envelop both of your hands around his.

“when i told you off for picking a fight with sakusa san?” you answer, recalling the boiling outrage you felt towards him years prior, "and proceeded to call you an irritating prick?"

“and i fell madly in love with you? yup,” atsumu grins cheekily before faltering by the slightest, "i was basically like that in high school, but way worse,”

“i mean i’m not as bad now, i hope. but yeah babe, i don’t think you’d date me if you knew how i acted then,” atsumu shrugs with , “and i wouldn’t blame you, y'know? dating an asshole sounds rough,”

“tell me about it, i’m dating one myself,” you giggle, bumping your shoulder with his as atsumu sulks, “kidding kidding! but what changed? you’re so sweet to me now tsumu, i can’t imagine you being any bit worse than that day we met,”

“fallin’ in love with you, that’s what changed me,” atsumu responds earnestly, shifting around and wriggling his hands from yours to cups the softness of your cheeks.

“tsumu! don’t say stuff like that if you don’t-“ you protest, moving your face down to bury it in atsumu’s large palms in embarrassment.

“i’m serious! honest!” atsumu protests, sliding his palms down to your jawline and lifting your face to level with his eyes, “you make me a better man babe, my parents, and even samu have said that. but you make me always want to be better because you deserve the best and i love you,”

warmth creeps up your cheeks as a faint soreness materializes, bringing attention to just how wide you’re grinning now, “i love you too tsumu,”

“you better love me! this conversation is making me fucking sad, thinking about how shitty i was. i better draft some emails or something to my old coaches and team for being such a pain to deal with,” atsumu chuckles, brushing the locks away from your face as he admires you for a brief moment, in awe of just how perfect you are when smiling.

“you’re absolutely perfect now,” you beam, taking your turn to cocoon your hands around atsumu’s jawline, “so so perfect,”

“damn right i am,” atsumu puffs his chest out, his signature childish yet endearing pride returning. his cheeks are dusted rose, the corners of his eyes crinkling happily, “i’m working hard babe, gonna be the absolute best boyfriend for you to make up for shitty high school tsumu,”

“good to know,” you giggle, “but you’re already the best boyfriend tsumu, it doesn’t matter how you were in high school. you’ve grown and matured since then, and there’s no need to make up for the past. it’s like your old school's motto, right? we don’t need things like memories. we don’t need to dwell on the people we were in the past. i love you now, and isn’t that what matters?”

“you’re too good to me babe,” atsumu groans playfully, hugging your waist as he buries his face into your shoulder with mild chagrin, taking in your sincerity as his blush grows fiercer by the moment, “i love you so much,”

“i love you too tsum,” a soft smile replaces the cheesy grin as you dip your head down the place butterfly kisses on the exposed part of atsumu’s jaw, “and i’m glad we met. really glad,”

you feel atsumu smile into your shoulder as he lifts his head up, a dorky grin plastered on his face as he kisses you, pulling away momentarily after as he whispers, “me too, i’m grateful we met that day,”

#aya's fics ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ #atsumu fluff #atsumu x reader #atsumu scenarios #atsumu x gn!reader #atsumu x gender neutral reader #atsumu imagines #atsumu oneshot #haikyuu x reader #atsumu miya #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x gn!reader #atsumu x you #atsumu x y/n

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 4/7)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader

Word Count: 3900+

A/N Note: Only a few more chapters to go (I think, but we're both lost on how long this series will be.) Thank you guys for reading and as always, thank you for the love and support!

____________

Chapter 4:

Y/N's POV

It wasn’t him. It was 100% me. I did this to myself. I built a wall so quickly around him because I didn’t want to like the man behind my misery. 

My teammates knew enough about my backstory to think they had an idea of my reason for joining SHIELD: helping the little guy because, at one point, you were the little guy—the manipulated guy—the one who no one saved, so you had to save yourself—and now anyone else who can’t do it for themselves. 

Yet, there were so many other things I kept for myself, and things files couldn’t tell you. No files existed of them, and I’m glad because I didn’t want the pity. 

James Buchanan Barnes was the reason behind my abuse. Not personally, but my abuser was obsessed with his accomplishments under the German and Russian terrorist organizations and wanted to make a female, more skilled, discrete, and sleeker version of the Winter Soldier. 

Who fucking didn’t, right? God, every goddamn evil bastard on this godforsaken shit show of a planet wants to remake something that was a once in a lifetime kind of thing and crack more than a few eggs to get to that point. Selfish asshole…

Being constantly compared to him and then beaten for not hitting the unreachable mark of the man I was ‘of no comparison to’ after years of trying to hit that standard, and then being asked to be on a team with him? A lot of emotions hit me like a train when I got that news. 

Will I amount to being the trained spy and agent I am for Shield with him by my side? Will he make me look like a completely pointless addition to the team? After five years of already working with the Avengers and then learning who the Winter Solider was? Steve’s best friend and probably the only person he could relate to in their journey? All the way to having to work with him… The change-up was instantaneous, where I would have begged for baby steps. 

Then again, when has the world made it easy for me?

So yes. I was an ass and kept him further than arm's length away to stay safe from learning that he was a good guy when I wasn’t ready to like him yet. I had a lot of trauma I never thought I’d have to work through with the infamous man himself, and that irritation and annoyance just continued when he finally matched my energy, and we never strayed from that relationship until… now.

And here he was, genuinely asking what HE did wrong when I was the reason for our enemies’ plot line. 

“Bucky, I don’t think I can talk about this right now,” I breathed out slowly, feeling the tears prick in my eyes.

It had been a minute since I cried and felt this vulnerable, and I couldn’t seem to stop it. I think subconsciously, I didn’t want to stop it, but my mind was begging my body to hold out until he was out of the room. 

“Y/N, if I did something to you, I didn’t realize-” 

“You wouldn’t have known,” I whisper, not trusting my voice to stay steady, but also not wanting to put anymore of the blame on him from here on out. 

He wasn’t a bad guy.

He had proved himself time and time again to be a really good guy. Even when he broke and decided he hated me back, he still had his moments when he put it aside and showed chivalry. I admired him for it even when I ignored the admiration. 

Makes it hard to fully hate a guy who made sure ladies weren’t opening any doors for themselves. Or a man who remembered Morgan’s birthday and bought her an ice cream cake before stealing Steve’s shield to sled down a hill her dad told her not to. Or a man you treat like absolute shit 99% of the time, and he still checks on you when you have nightmares, and he grabs water and an ice pack and helps you even out your breathing before waiting for you to go back to sleep. 

I didn’t ask him for the help, and he never mentioned the handful of times he fell into the routine of soothing me back to sleep. Never brought it up, never made me feel like I owed him, and never hinted at remembering such kindness. 

But now?

“You wouldn’t have known why it started this way to begin with. And you likely won’t,” I sigh, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth before turning around; a lot more put together, even if it was just a mask I had learned to put on most of my life. 

“I don’t understand,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at my disposition. 

“I don’t expect you to, but maybe we should go to sleep and talk about it later. It’s getting late, and you have to go to your ‘job’ tomorrow,” I say with hand quotes. “We have to keep the ruse going.” 

“A few hours of sleep doesn’t affect me,” Bucky shook his head, and I could see him itching to put his hands back on me, but he held back. “Please. I need to know what the hell I did.” 

“Again, Bucky,” I say sternly this time, all emotion I’m struggling to keep at bay shoved down. “You are not at fault, and tomorrow I’ll talk to you, but for now, I need to sleep on it.”

He read my face for lies, and I kept it neutral. I wasn’t going to break here. Now was not the time. I needed space to think about how I was going to approach this after so long of avoiding it and being put on the spot wasn’t going to work for me. 

“Ok,” he said, softer than I think I ever heard him talk. His eyes were soft and sensitive, and I didn’t know how I felt about it…

He turned and walked out of my room, gently shutting the door behind him and turning off the overhead light he had originally flashed on. 

I didn’t instantly head straight to bed. I stared at the doorway in the dark, seeing the faint silhouette of the barrier between us. He was still on the other side, and I could hear his heart rate higher than normal.

This was affecting him more than I thought it would. Why was he so worried about what I thought of him? He didn’t seem bothered by my disinterest in the past. Or at least I didn’t figure he did. 

____________________

When I woke up, Bucky was already gone. His truck, normally in the driveway, was missing, and I knew he had taken off for our mission report. 

Thankful, I took the time to make my coffee, sit on the front porch, and watch the neighborhood take on its morning routine. 

People were on runs with their family dogs, moms were doing their morning walks with strollers, some neighbors were out already tending to their gardens, and everything suburban seemed to be on track. 

Towards the end of my cup, I notice Ms. Bauer coming back from her jog she must have taken earlier than the others. 

“Oh, hello, neighbor!” she shouted when she spotted me, uniformly checking our house like her head was on a swivel if she heard a pen drop in it. 

Still in her jog, she sashayed over to my lawn, and I mumbled, “Here we go,” smiling at her as she followed the sidewalk to our steps. 

“How are you doing today, Bethanne?” I grin standing from my patio chair and going down the steps to meet her at the bottom of the flight. “Is there a run club I didn’t know about? You’re the 10th person I’ve seen getting a head start on their steps for the day.” 

She laughed and waved a hand at me before taking an earbud out, pausing her music on her watch, and placing her hands on her hips as she looked up at me. 

“There is actually a mommy and me walking club on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Depending on the weather, of course, but who knows,” she grinned up at me. “Maybe you can be joining it sooner than you thought.”

“Maybe not as soon as you think,” I laughed, holding my mug tighter with both hands so I wouldn’t strangle her instead and leaning on the banister. “We wanted at least a year in the house by ourselves before we add another set of feet to the chaos,” I scrunch my nose and add, “but I’m excited for the day Beau and I have a mini-version of us running around here.” 

“Speaking of Beau,” she grins, looking to the driveway. “Where is he today? He’s usually home with you most of the time, right?”

“Oh, it was time for him to get back to work. He took off for a few weeks to get moved in and spend time with me before we had to get back to the real world,” I answer as planned. 

“That’s right. I think I remember you guys talking about that at the first block party,” she nodded, watching me carefully for slip-ups. “Can you believe it’s only been two weeks of you guys here? I feel like you two have been a part of the community for at least a year.” 

“You’re sweet,” I gush convincingly and look out to the neighborhood for effect. “You guys have really taken us in as your family, and you don’t know how much I appreciate it. We appreciate it,” I correct and look off in the distance like I’m thinking of my sweet, doting husband when, in reality, I was thinking of the day this mission was over and I could carry on with my normal life. “I don’t think I’ve mentioned this. Beau isn’t one to really talk about it, but his family life wasn’t the best. They’ve practically been strangers since he turned 18.” 

“Oh, is that so?” she inched up, feeding on the new (fake) information. 

I nod. “When we started dating, my family took him in as his own- well, I only had my dad around for most of my life, but they got along really well. He passed three years ago,” I give a tight-lipped look as I look down at my feet in sadness. “They developed a bond, which wasn’t hard considering who my dad was. He was the best, though we might be biased in thinking that. Taught Beau how to do a lot of things dads are supposed to teach their sons. Well,” I sniffle for added effect. “Anyway, we’re kinda on our own now. No extended family we’re close with, and with my dad’s passing, it’s really just us. So when I say we’re grateful for y’all’s hospitality, I mean it.”

She seemed to buy it, as much as an undercover convict could, and smiled kindly up at me before placing a hand on my arm. 

“Of course, sweetheart. We’re just lucky you two are some of the good ones. You’d be surprised who’s come in and hasn’t made the cut. Lawns in disarray, unfriendly attitudes, and you know the list,” she winks and rolls her shoulders back before stretching in her spot. “Speaking of being lovely neighbors, how would you and Beau feel about a dinner at our house? Reggie and I have been talking about having you over for quite some time now, and I think we can finally host.” Before I could ask, she stopped me and explained. “Kitchen renovation. It was and still is a pain in my ass, but it should be doable for a small dinner.”

“That sounds lovely,” I beam as much as I could act. It was the perfect next step, and the bait had been taken, but a part of me wanted to settle things with Bucky in our personal dispute before we put on our masks for the two main perpetrators. “Let me check with him and see what his schedule will look like now. He’s getting some new orders today, and some things are changing in the company. We’ll know more tonight. But we will for sure make it work.” 

___________

After Bethanne told me some useless neighborhood gossip, she excused herself, and I went back inside to get ready for the day and consider how I would approach Bucky on our issue. 

I knew it was time to be truthful, even if I dreaded it. Bucky had proven time and time again that he wasn’t the enemy, and I needed to deal with my issues. I was tired of wasting energy on hatred and anger, and these last two weeks proved that Bucky wasn’t the one who should have been receiving the blunt force end of my trauma. 

I had until four in the evening to come up with an idea of how I wanted to go about it, but I had stress cleaned instead and couldn’t come up with a non-terrifying way to approach this life-changing conversation.

Finally, I found it best we get dinner in the town over (as not to have any peaking eyes or eavesdropping ears as we dive into my life story I hadn’t indulged to near anyone before), and I would talk to Bucky there. However, plans changed when Bucky came home. 

From my spot in the kitchen, I heard him shout in his domesticated voice across the street, “No, that sounds perfect! We’d love to!” The door opened just as he finished his sentence, and his voice became clearer. 

I moved around the island and slowly walked toward the door to get a view of who he was talking to, and I noticed Bethanne at her mailbox waving to Bucky. 

I furrowed my eyebrows at the obvious commitment he put us in, and after he waved back, he shut the door behind him, looking at me, and dropped the act quickly. 

“What did you just agree to?” I asked, nodding my head behind him. 

He looked me up and down, and I almost forgot I had picked a new, semi-fancier sundress for our “surprise anniversary dinner” (at least the front I was trying to put on for getting out of town without too much suspicion).

(Make whatever color you please or change it in your mind if you want! I'm choosing to pick it as a darker red.)

“You look nice,” he says as his eyes trail back up to my own, and I swear I see him take a gulp. 

“What did you agree to?” I asked again, focused more on what he had decided for us regarding Bethanne. 

His previous shocked face faded away, and he rolled his eyes slightly before throwing his work bag to the side.

“Bethanne invited us to dinner. I said yes because we need to build a relationship with them,” he replied stoically, as if my question was dumb and pointless. 

I just stared at him and let my “personal vendetta” look rest on my face. He studied me and had the decency to shrink ever so slightly. 

“What?”

“What happened to discussing things first?” I said in an eerily calm voice. 

“I didn’t think accepting dinner at a home we’ve been trying to get inside of for the last two weeks is something we’d have to discuss.” And now he straightens up, throwing his empty arms to the side. 

A few seconds later, I yelled, “You dipshit!” in a muffled grunt, keeping my voice down as much as I could handle and balling my fists in anger. 

His eyebrows shoot up and he huffs with his chest puffed out as he marches to me. I see the intent in his eyes, and I start walking away towards the opposite room closest, needing a minute not to lose my shit, and if I have to look into his stupid azure eyes like he wants to read everything passing through my mind, I’ll break.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he growls, and I shoot him a look over my shoulder as I shift my pace and head down the hallway to the bedrooms. “Y/N, stop being a stubborn ass and-”

“Unless you want a heel thrown at your head, and you’re welcome for being civil about this, I suggest you leave me alone,” I shout behind me, turn sharply to the left, and go to my room. 

“I don’t even know what THIS is! You looked at me like you wanted to kill me when I walked in, and I haven’t even talked to you today besides updates about work,” he said just as I slammed the door in his face. “Oh, real mature. Shut the door like an adolescent. Wait, I forgot. You are one…” He mumbles the last part and I hear him lean on the door.

Instantly, I whip the door open, and he doesn’t have time to predict his next move. He falls flat on his back on the wood floors of my room, only padded by a thin oriental rug I made Tony buy me. 

He’s winded from the fall and clutches his chest as I bend down next to him and say, “I said. Leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone.” I stare at him for a second, solidifying my threat. I stand to walk out and only give him a glance as I pass the doorway. 

_____________

Bucky’s POV:

I left her the fuck alone. 

I may have been royally pissed (that is a blatant ass understatement), but something about the look in Y/N’s eyes told me not to push unless I wanted to wake up with my head no longer attached to my body. 

I was too scared to leave her room in fear I’d run into her when she wasn’t ready and risk taking the chances of the guillotine earlier, so I sat on her bed and tried to rack my brain to where I slipped up to cause whatever the hell I walked in to…

I knew almost instantly and realized what a stupid, simple mistake it was. Bethanne asking me to dinner set her off, I knew. But her comment about talking with each other before making decisions told me my mistake. 

Something happened I didn’t know of, and I may have just fucked whatever it was up. As for what it is? No goddamn clue. But using context clues and just basic reading of the body language, Y/N had already made a plan, and I threw it out the window, likely.

I heard footsteps before I could think further, and Y/N appeared in the doorway, taking a deep breath. She would have convinced me she was going to be civil if it wasn’t for her history, but I was excited to see which lane she chose. 

“One thing before I bite my tongue,” she says in almost a whisper, like she’s trying to keep her frustrations at bay. “You make me want to shave my head like Britney Spears in 2007 75% of the time. This moment was almost a tipping point for that kind of outcome..” She lets out a long breath like she passed the test of keeping it together. 

Surprisingly a lot more tame than I was expecting. 

“Glad you got that out of your system. Now, please tell me what the hell happened?” I asked, keeping my guard up in case she resorted to her typical insults and fury. 

“Oh, now you want to communicate,” she mocks and walks to the bed, harshly sitting next to me but leaving a copious amount of space between us. 

I let it slide because I know she’s fighting bigger demons, like the urge to insult me, until I personally dig my own grave and say goodbye to my cruel reality. 

“Bethanne was goading us,” she answers, thankfully getting right to the point. “Something about her proposition seemed off, and I wanted to clear some things up with you before we jumped on the offer.”

I nodded my head, seeing that my instantaneous reply wasn’t thought out. That was on me, yes, but she also reacted extremely dramatically, expressing an odd feeling about the interaction instead of hard proof. 

“What did she ask, and what was off about it?” I question, trying to stay mission based because something seemed off still.

“It wasn’t what it was but how she was asking. Something in her tone and the way she was looking at our house and me. Like she was trying to take in detail after detail up close. Checking for cracks in the foundation,” she answers and turns to me just slightly. “She also said her kitchen was under renovation, and something felt off about it.” 

“The vibes about our neighbor getting a kitchen renovation made you knock the wind out of me when you opened your door?” I said before I could think, but I didn’t budge, my furrowed eyebrows aimed at her. 

She matches my glare and turns her body fully to me. 

“It seemed like an excuse,” she answers slowly. 

“To what? Host a dinner? That’s kind of the opposite effect. Who would want to host a dinner when you have kitchen renovations? It means they trust us if they’re willing to let us see a house that’s not perfect like the front they put on.” 

‘That’s what you get from it, but I think they just planted a little seed of their own.” 

“What do you even mean?”

“Kitchen Reno? That’s an excuse to say, ‘Oh, Charlotte, I can’t cook the chicken pot pie I was going to make for you two because our new oven hasn’t been delivered and installed yet. You know? Because we have the kitchen under renovation? I completely forgot,’” She acted in a convincing Bethanne impersonation and then quickly turned back to serious. 

“You got that from a kitchen reno comment?” I deadpanned after a minute. 

“I got that from understanding women masterminds who know how to manipulate a situation. I am that woman, so I think I can read them pretty well,” she says confidently back. 

Touché.

“And what if you’re wrong?” Her bitchface grew at my question. 

“First off, I’m not. Second off, even if I was wrong, we are supposed to consult each other about accepting invitations into the house of our suspect enemies,” she ran a hand through her hair, which I notice now looks styled differently. Did she curl it or have it blown out? And yes, I know what a blowout is. I have women friends and coworkers.

Yeah… I was in the wrong here, and that’s on me. I wasn’t thinking. I also had a long day snooping around for more information about this whole operation, but it isn’t necessarily an excuse… It’s not like  I haven’t worked on a case like this in the past. I mean, minus being fictitiously married to a coworker. 

“I’m sorry,” I say, and she gives me a weird look. “What?”

“I wasn’t expecting an apology,” she says, standing slowly and straightening her dress. 

“I know when to accept I made a mistake,” I shrug and stand as well. 

She studies my face like there's a retort that’s going to follow, but I just stare at her silently, communicating that I’m set on my apology. 

“Ok…” she drags out, watching me as she steps toward the door. “Well, I guess we need to get ready for tonight. Considering we have dinner. With our neighbors. And we need to set up bugs if possible.”

“Guess so,” I nod, crossing my arms. 

She stops suddenly and looks at me with a look of realization. “You’re in my room.” She steps to the side, leaving room for me to leave, and avoids eye contact. 

She’s still acting weird, but I need to change and get my head in the game for tonight, so I walk out with a subtle head nod as I leave.

Marvel Tags:

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